Brought to Light
by Blood in Water
Summary: EdXWin.[Rated for dark thoughts,mutilation, selfmutilation, fluff.] A lesson in losing, regaining, and finding anew. Chapter 11 is FINALLY up! [The Songfic for Part 7 is out! : 3]
1. Recognition

**Chapter 1; Recognition**

_Bane; "The reviewers for Burnt Rose have decided! If the one you wanted wasn't majority, it's okay. **Breathe**. As soon as this one's over, the next majority-picked fanfiction_

_Will take place. Sometimes I may even do 2 at once."_

_A; "Yay! I'm back!"_

_-silence-_

_A; -.-' "Anyway. We've got a new character to introduce to the commentary! Her name is Laura. And while I'm at it, I will clarify a few things to those who didn't catch quite on. 'A' is short for Alice, and Bane? Bane's a girl. Okay! Sheesh. Later we may shorten Laura's name or nickname her…but we'll tell you if we do."_

_Laura; "Is it always like this?"_

_Bane; "sometimes it gets worse."_

_A; "Like the time you hit me with a wrench?"_

_Bane; "I never hit you with a wrench. You're sadly mistaken. Something must be wrong with your head. You probably just have amnesia from the time I hit you with a wrench—I mean…uh, that is to say…"_

_A; "AHA!"_

_Laura; stares lost and paralyzed at the blank wall in utter shock._

_Bane; "By the way, Laura?"_

_Laura comes back into reality "Yeah?"_

_Bane; "No more mentioning…my other name anymore, okay?"_

_Laura; "You mean your **real** name?"_

_Bane; winces at last two words "Well…it sort of…Bane is so much cooler than my name."_

_Laura & A; wink at eachother then say in unison "Whatever. HER REAL NAME IS NIKITA!"_

_Bane; screams in agony before realizing nothing hurts. "I'm…ALIVE!"_

_Laura; "Whatever."_

_A; rolls eyes_

_Bane; -.-'_

_A; "…Back to the story?"_

_Bane; "oh…yeah!"

* * *

_

The knock came as a complete surprise to Winry, who jumped to her feet. The straight-backed chair fell to the ground with a clatter.

The knob felt cold, and oddly slippery under her sweaty palms. Who could be calling on such a day as this? The wind took obvious pleasure in thieving the hats from old men, and nipping at the hands of those of all ages. The skies were a dull and despairing grey, the clouds fortelling of snow.

Once the door was ajar, a boy was revealed. He stood shivering, in only a t-shirt, at the doorstep. Something about him stuck familiority, but Winry couldn't quite place a finger on it.

"W-Winry?"

"I'm…sorry, do I know you?"

He bit his lip. Something in his face told of unknown melancholy. His arms were of strong build, his golden hair matching the color of his eyes. He had to be sixteen, seventeen at the most.

"I…never stopped to think that you might not recognize me. I guess…I guess I couldn't blame you…It's been too many years, too many…"

"Al? Al, is that…really you?"

She jumped at him, embracing him with such force that they both almost toppled backwards. Flushing heartily, Winry added, "I guess armor had its uses." He was close to smiling, but before the grin could broaden, the dispirited look had returned. It took another moment to realize.

"Wait…Where- where's Ed?"

His expression darkened.

"Oh my god. How- But- It was just a peace mission, it wasn't…WHAT THEHELL COULD HAVE GONE WRONG!"

He knew the rage wasn't aimed at him in particular, but he couldn't help but cringe at the sudden outburst. Her anguish was exactly as he had felt when he first heard the words. He was now on the verge of tears.

"It ...Well-"

"How the hell could Ed be de—"

He stopped her from completing the last word, "-No, he's not dead, not…" She could tell he had fought back the words 'not yet'. "Then, what's wrong, why are you so…" She trailed off, watching him, watching his expression. And abruptly, silence reined.

_I can't just sit here, he's waiting…_

He swung around, and despite his haste, he said just above a whisper, "We need automail. He needs the usual, but…there's a number of other things we need now…"

"Like what?"

He looked slightly uncomfortable.

"Are you up to a challenge?"

"Al, just tell me."

"Like, the surgeons said it might be possible to construct a life-like spinal cord out of tissue, but we need a vertebrae, a shoulder blade, and part of the neck…and…well…"

"What? What else?"

* * *

_Bane; "I know what everyone is thinking. No. I'm not that sick. Jesus CHRIST!"_

_A; "Heh. I know I was thinking it."_

_Laura; "Thinking what!"_

* * *

"Six of his ribs."

"Al…I …"

Tears were running down her face, her sobs shaking her body violently. Holding her close, he felt every jolt of sorrow that passed through her, after all, he had created them himself, earlier, after he been informed. Edward had always been coming to aid those who knew pain. But until now, his own pain had always been well hidden. Now there was no smokescreen between his wounds and his loved ones. Now it was clear that with no assistance, the agony would kill him.

* * *

_Bane; "SO it's not a cliffy. It's a half cliffy."_

_A; "It doesn't matter, since you're realeasing this entire story 3-4 chapter in."_

_Laura; "They still have growing excitement as they turn to the next chapter…"_

_Bane; "Fine. Be that way, but the next intrerruption of the story, I'm not letting you say anything."_

_A; "Fine."_

_Laura; "Whatever."_

_Bane; "You know I was kidding, right?"_

_-silence-_

_Bane; "right? RIGHT?"_

_Bane thanks you for reading the first chapter. If you're utterly disgusted with the way she wrote this, she's truly apologetic, but don't flame; you could have…just…umm…STOPPED READING IT! Flamers, beware. Her flamethrower follows her everywhere. Please don't force her to use it; as she wouldn't mind. IN THE LEAST._

_

* * *

_

_Bane; "Yes, I know I'm evil. I have the 2nd chapter finished, and am about to start off the third. To receive the second, I need 3-4 reviews. They don't have to be positive, but they have to be from 3-4 different people, and not spam. 3. Thanks."_


	2. Replacement

**Chapter 2; Replacement**

_Bane; "Okay, since I got 2 reviews (by 2 wonderfully kind people), I figured I'd cut you guys some slack. Anyway, already finished Chapter 3. I want 3 reviews tomorrow. Only one can be annoymous. None can be spam. If tomorrow doesn't reap success, I'll wait until I get 5 reviews stocked up to continue._

_A; "She's sort of addicted to reviews... she still loves you all. Just wait until the commentary chapter of this fanfic. She'll tell you in person."_

_Laura; "hmm."_

* * *

"I need you to get all the equipment you might need. There'll be no coming back; he's in a hospital five hours away by train. There's a small town off the map."

"Yeah, I think I have all the parts in."

"And what of Pinako?"

"She...she died two months ago. It's just Den and me, now."

Al's face fell. "I'm- I'm so sorry, Winry."

"No, no...it's...it's all right. Right now, all that matters is Ed. But...Al?"

"Yeah?"

"I've...never tried, I mean, I don't think anyone's ever-How can I create automail vertebrae that supports the back, and yet allows the person to bend?"

"The surgeons told us that it'd be easy. For the most part, anyway. You don't have time to create something for comfort right away. They said just to create a case thate opens in the back, allowing a place for a new spinal cord to be placed, and you can go back in to add bendabilty later, once he's healed a bit more. They wanted for you to basically build a case."

"Why me, weren't there other mechanics--?"

"He wouldn't talk much, but when I caught him awake, I managed to tell him about needing metal replacements. I talked to him about a getting you, but he said something about how you shouldn't have to see him like this. I figure you ought to see him...in case something goes wrong..."

* * *

With two bags brimming with everything she could ever possibly need to construct new automail, they made their way through the chilled wind. Risembool train tickets were bought, but throughout the first hour onboard, words were scarce. During the second hour, however, curiosity prevailed.

"But how the hell did he lose so much on a peace mission, Al?"

Suddenly, gazing at the newly human Alfonse, the most obvious idea struck her.

"Oh. Your bodies, he had to sacrifice more of his own to regain yours, I guess?"

Alfonse smiled slightly,"Nah. Ed was a genius working on my transmutation. It wasn't me he was trying to forge flesh for."

"But...Oh my god. The philosipher's stone...You-didn't-wouldn't..."

"No. Let me just start from the beginning. There's so much I don't know. You'll have to wait until Brother fills in the blanks. They sent us to a remote village that was incredibly advanced in alchemy. It was their life. The entire soul of the place hovered everywhere; everything was so connected. It was amazing, Winry. And according to their myths, in the area was a substance that was so pure, and so rare that, in some cases, it could be traded for flesh. The substance was Serenium, said to be spun out of pure love. But no one had yet found it. And supposedly there was a risk. Someone added that, according to the inscriptions on a nearby temple, hate had been thrown into the mix by an envious god with violet eyes and spiteful tendancies.

Needless to say, we searched for this myth. I mean, what else was there to take faith in? It took two months, but we finally came across it in small ravine miles down the river. We did the transmutation process that night."

"And?"

He didn't reply, only sat ashen-faced. He didn't think she realized exactly how hard it was to hand out words. All the curiosity wants is the information. Doesn't matter if there's despair, or embarrassment hidden between the lines of knowledge. The need to understand takes over, and the need doesn't care much about the thoughts of mere mortals.

Instead, he recited a folk-song that had first told them of the marvelous substance.

**"In strife spun a web of endless lies,**

**A time of vengeful, fleshless spies.**

**Arisen those of violet sight,**

**With eyes on goals amid their spite.**

**And yet, a new age came its way,**

**And once more dark was kept at bay.**

**The lives of those who risked too much,**

**Were given once back their limbs and such.**

**With dew to calm the victim's cries, **

**A varied result would soon arise. **

**Circled souls, bone and flesh, **

**Be warned, to those who might not mesh."**

"Al?"

"Yeah?"

"...Well, why exactly does Ed need the usual automail if you found the one way to...?"

"I should have known to let him go before me...but he-he wouldn't even hear of it. Brother wanted me to have the first go. So I did, but the folksong that told us of Serenium also had a line that said subtly,

'_The lives of those who risked too much, were given once back their limbs and such_'. "

"And? What does that have to do with anything?"

"The alchemy is ancient, flawed, and it only allows the regaining of limbs once per person."

"So? You're two people."

"But we're blood related."

"And how is that relevant?"

"Our blood was too similar. I guess the DNA was too much like mine, and the Serenium wouldn't function."

"Oh, God. You mean Ed never...?"

"...He didn't really give. I mean, according to how I read his expressions, I think that he'd been feeling guilty about what I've been for the past few years. And yet, Brother was happier than he'd been in a long time, for a while."

"So how did it take a year to come back?"

"Well, we packed as much of the element as we could manage, and went from town to town, reforming the bodies of those who had lost themselves in accidents due to life's cruelty or mistakes of alchemy. We never much lingered on the verses to the song. We talked it over and came to the conclusion that the rest was just poetic trash. Just last week, though, I was getting us lodgings for the night. Brother said something about heading to take care of another 'wanderer' as we had come to call them."

"And?" Winry was growing impatient. Where was all this going, anyway?

"I was heading from an inn that had given us a night's stay, when she came screaming."

"Who?"

"A girl local to the village. A small girl, maybe eight years of age? She was dressed in a blousse with a white skirt that trailed down to her ankles. And the first thing I noticed was the blood. "

"And how does a bleeding girl pertain to Ed?"

"Getting there. It covered her hands and marked the white in several places. Anyway, it turned out her mother had lost half of her face in a cart accident last year."

"So? How could she be bloody from an accident that happened the year before?"

"Do you just want me to stop so you won't have to ask questions?"

"Oh, sorry."

"She, too, had found the benefits of automail. Half her visage was composed of steel. So Brother, having asked around for anyone to assist, came to her. But it was only after the child found him...that I realized exactly what the last verse to the musical expression meant.

'_Circled souls, bone and flesh,_

_Be warned, to those who might not mesh_.'

Alfonse closed his eyes against the tears that threatened to overcome him. Winry simply watched him in sympathy; waiting for him to continue.

"I concluded, finally, that it meant only so many people could find comfort and relief from this path. But eventually, it would demand something in return. It was like a hiccup, an allergic reaction to the substance. Some folks just don't 'mesh'. The mother regained her face, but at the loss of Brother. His spine was...gone. I found him lying on his side, a gaping trail of nothing along his back. He just lay there, bleeding and shuddering in agony. He kept coming in and out of lucid states. He kept saying over and over again; 'Never knew. Never understood.' I carried him eight miles to the next village. I had to; there were no othere means of medical attention for circumstances of that magnitude. "

Winry's eyes were glazed with grief. Drops of bitter fluid flowed freely from blue.

"And that's all I know. He can't really talk yet, the spinal cord needs to be rebuilt for the body to respond to nerve sendings from the brain. But when he does, you can pry the rest."

He brought her into a tight embrace. Tears fell like rain, and yet, the relief of the clouds parting never quite came...

* * *

_Bane; "Sorry everybody, I suck at poems (or songs). I just figured it would fit best here. Thanks for putting up with it."_

* * *

_Bane; "Phew. Aren't my fanfictions so light-hearted?"_

_A; "Now I'm depressed."_

_Laura; "You made me cry."_

_A; "I wanted a lemon, not a sally-sob story."_

_Bane; "All in due time. I want a bit of a morbid edge to this one, first."_

_Laura: sobs uncontrollably "Hey! That's -hic- not -violent shudder- not true! I can too -hiccup- control my sobbing!"_

_Bane; O.o "Let's just leave it here."_


	3. Soothe

**Chapter 3; Sooth**

_Bane; "Okay; you reviewers were so nice to me. I felt that I should return the favor, and so, here it is. It's probably not as long as it should be, but, hey! It's the next chapter!" Dangles in front of the reviewers' noses_

_A; "We know reviewing the reviewers' reviews can be boring, but that thing…what was it…? Oh yeah…'fun' worked for us last time. Wanna' try it again?"_

_Bane; "A lot of people said that it it was depressing. And that it is. I'm really sorry. But it said in the summary; dark thoughts, self-mutilation, mutilation wait! It didn't say this one; but it SHOULD have, language, and lemony& fluffy scenes. And besides, for anyone who has ever read EDXWIN fanfictions Burnt Rose in Particular, you'll know that even though it may be sad and rather heart-breaking at the beginning, it'll only get more action packed and ass kicking—er, I mean, only get better from there. And besides, It has to have a happy ending, right? 'Cause, it's Ed and Winry!"_

_A; "You know, we forgot to add a disclaimer."_

_Bane; trying to ignore A "Okay, we're back with Chapter 3."_

_A & Laura; cheers!_

_Bane; "Geez, did it take that long to update?" checks calendar_

_A; "Well, 2 days is a long time." tugs Bane's shirt_

_Bane; "Fine, I don't own a damn thing of Full Metal Alchemist."_

_Laura; "I just won't say anything." O.o_

_Bane; "That having been said, ready for more dark and unhappy world of mine?"_

_-silence-_

_Bane; "Fine. Like I care if you're ready. And side note; this one'll be just a teensy bit more despairing. Mostly because, this time, you get to have descriptions of the poor Edward."

* * *

_

The train rumbled to a stop. Bag in each hand, Al led the way off. Winry, face tinged scarlet from weeping, followed suit.

* * *

Edward was asleep when they arrived. The nurse mentioned something about morphine and a sedative. A small screen blipped his heart rate, and wires trailed down from his chest. An air mask covered his mouth and nose.

* * *

She never _really_ studied him, afraid, truth be told, of what she might see. What if she looked and he wasn't what he used to be? What if she looked at him and found that pain had contorted him into someone she no longer knew.

A slight twitch ran abruptly through his body, and all muscles suddenly tensed. Winry was unable to keep herself from laying her hand lightly on his human arm. As abruptly as they had tensed, relaxation flowed through him.

"Pull up a chair."

The voice caused her to swivel around. It came from one of the surgeons, who was poised at the doorway. His words were decidedly coy, and although he wore a smile, there was something cold about him. She merely shook her head.

His graying auburn hair was sleeked back, and the white coat gave him an air of distinction. High cheek-boned and in possession of a well-build figure, he owned an oddly Victorian look.

"I need to give you a few diagrams and measurements. He's on life-support systems at the moment, and we'll begin to see declines in the next few days. You'll need to start in the next hour or so. The technitions that work on the electronics have volunteered to allow you to use their work-shop for the next day."

Winry received a small pile of papers from him, and skimmed through them, brow furrowed. It was easy to read, but the work it was going to take to construct something so complex?

"I assume you can manage?"

His voice retained a slight drawl. She was obviously flustered, "I-I…yes, I thin-think this should be fine."

"What time can we expect the parts, then?"

"Wh-what…time?"

Disdain was painted on his face, "Yes. I **_said_** '_what time_'." Winry could only sit speechlessly.

"Perhaps by tomorrow evening?"

"Y-yes."

Gracefully, the surgeon closed the door behind him.

"What a jack-ass, Al."

"Maybe a little more colorful than I would say it, Winry. But yes."

"You never were much one for color."

* * *

There was no more time for tears. Steel made up the night: metal echoed off the dawn. At exactly 6:53 p.m., the part of metallic skeleton was given to the nearest nurse. At 7:41, The operating commenced, and by the time of 4:29 a.m., the surgery was in its aftermath.

* * *

Finally, Winry slipped into a restless slumber on one of the waiting room couches, woken only two years later by the buzzing of frantic voices. Snatches of muffled conversation rang in her ears.

"Poor lad. He came to, well, in a way… and he's all disoriented-like. They can't do a thing with 'em."

The first thing that came to her mind was Ed. Almost sprinting through the medical facility, she made her way to his sick room.

When she came to his side, she no longer cared whether or not she'd be shocked by what she saw; she needed to watch him- to know his face. What if, the next day, he passed away, and she had never even looked apon his face; never studied him?

He lay on a sick bed, thrashing. Every so often, he would let a cry escape his throat. His face was gaunt and sweat ridden, and even now, he didn't look anything like the sullen boy who had lost everything. For now, he looked like a man-in-coming that had lost the nothing he had.

A fit of shivers ran along him. He shook mildly, wincing at the jolts of pain along his back. Again, she found herself sitting down beside him, carressing his forhead lightly.

* * *

Al waited outside, drinking a gatorade and holding back tears. He had nearly forgotten the weight of water forming at your eyes. And he, for the first time, hated it. He was seventeen, after all. And Ed almost never cried. Almost. Maybe it was that he had always been the more 'sensitive' of the two. As grateful as he felt towards having his body back, the prospect of never having to cry still delved deeper within him.

* * *

Her hand found its way into his. Suddenly, his trembling intensified, and his palm grew moistened with persperation. His grip tightened. He cried out, the sound echoing about the empty walls of the room

Winry's fist collided with the '_nurse assistance_' button so forcefully that she could hear the plastic strain beneath her fingers. The nurse came bustling in a few minutes later, seeming quite oblivious to the situation.

But by then, Ed was feverish perspiring greatly. And yet, laid-back woman couldn't seem to find the problem.

"Hmm. That's odd."

"What's odd?"

"Well he hasn't got a _high_ fever, but he still has the symptoms of one."

"…You're telling me that you don't know what the fuck is wrong with him?"

She looked taken aback, and left soon afterwards to retrieve a doctor. He, in trun, performed the same tests the previous woman had. But he, to Winry's relief, concluded hat it was simply a minor infection. He promtly drowned two pills down Ed's throat with generous doses of water.

* * *

_Bane; "It can't be possible to be the happy—" drinks tea and eats gummi worms at 6:02 a.m. "—and still be able to write this stuff."_

_A; "It should be illegal for you to be able to publish this stuff."_

_Laura; "Hey! Everyone! I have an announcement."_

_Bane; to A; "What's this about?"_

_A; to Bane; "Don't you remember?" gives Bane's brain a tap._

_Laura; "I have a new nickname!"_

_Bane; "Ohhh. I remember now."_

_A; "Laura, can you do me a favor?"_

_Laura; "Sure."_

_A; "Why don't you do the smart thing and tell the readers your new nickname."_

_Laura; "Oh! Yeah. It's 'Drumstick'. Because I play the drums, and…Bane thought it was a funny nickname to give me. So…now it's mine."_

* * *

His trembling stopped within the first two hours. And still, she remained, clutching his hand tightly. Thin lines of black lay under her eyelids, but sleep was the last thing on her mind. For the next three hours, she waited for a response; and signal from him that might indicated whether some part of Ed remained in this trembling and half-dead body. She longed to know whether or not a smile could ever cross his face again.

* * *

When at last, he did wake, Ed's blurred eyes opened to view Winry. He struggled to say simply, "Damn it, Mustang, I don't have the fucking paperwork. Get off my back, you bastard."

And within minutes, his pale face wore a looke of peace once more. Her tears fell onto their interlocked fingers. Still, she wondered if this dilirious boy was really Ed. _Her_ Ed.

* * *

When at last she left the room, she wouldn't speak. Winry, in truth, was afraid that if she did, she'd start crying. And she had cried much too much already.

* * *

Suddenly, she felt hunger lash through her brain; she hadn't eaten in two days. After informing Al of where she was going, she made her way down to the hosptital cafeteria, which had been originally named ' Hospitatlity Hospital Cafeterian'. She managed to consume half an apple and a quarter of a carton of orange juice. She couldn't eat without thinking about Edward. _Damn_.

* * *

Her steps made no sound as she treaded on the cold, tiled floor. In her boredom, she bagan to cound the doors that were open, and the doors that weren't. She came to one that was straying from being closed by a few inches, and she paused to consider which category to place it under. It wasn't like she didn't have the next six or seven hours to wander around. Then, two voices in the room caught her attention. A very worn looking P.H.D. physician was conversing with an assistant. The assistant was rather burly, and, after glancing at his stout fingers, she found herself wondering whether or not he could be of any use at doctoring.

"Well, yes, Rupert. But I still think the Elric needs a little more… time to settle before we implement further treatment."

"What would the treatment be? I mean…there's really nothing we can do for psychological after-effects, is there?"

"There's depression medication, but I'm not sure exactly…When I did the neural scans, I found that there's a lot of negetive activity, and I'm sensing that he may have trouble adjusting this this 'new life' happily."

The other man sighed softly then added, "You want me to go tell the girl?"

"What girl?"

"The mechanic—"

"Oh, Yes! The mechanic…hmm… no, I don't think she can handle the stress right now…"

That's all she stayed to listen for. She passed Al on her way to the door. Winry couldn't even look at him; she couldn't tell him what she had just heard.

* * *

Just holding Edward's hand made her happy. Just feeling the warmth in her fingertips mingle with the warmth in his.

And still, all it took was a glance at his face; at the expression of agony that came across it every so often, and she felt as though her heart could break in two.

* * *

_Bane; "Yay! I have 4th chapter written half-way through. But you can't have it; not yet._

_Because I need reviews."_

_A; "And Bane appreciates the previous reviews; she loves you guys. But she needs reviews."_

_Drumstick; " SO…to get the 4th chapter by tomorrow evening (though, most likely the morning…) Bane needs the reviews to say "reviews; 9". Because she needs reviews."_


	4. Torn

**Chapter 4; Torn**

_Bane; "it gets sadder in this one; but don't worry, still a happy ending…unless I suddenly change my mind…actually…it'd be more dramatic if…nevermind…don't want to…give it away."_

_Drumstick; "But…I want it to be happy."_

_A; "I don't care. I want sex."_

_Bane; "Anyway, I don't own the Full Metal Alchemist; they wouldn't sell it to me for the rights to my fanfictions, so…I guess this is the closest I'll ever get."

* * *

_

The next two days had passed slowly, her boredom limit reaching its maximum.

"I'm starved, Winry. And the food is too…"

"…Healthy? Hmm. Yeah. But wasn't there a place near this facility?"

"Yeah."

He groaned with exaustion.

"I told you not to pace so much."

He gave a sheepish grin, and rubbed his feet as casually as possible.

"I'll walk down and get something."

Al fished into his pocket to retrieve a few bills, but as soon as he caught first sight of the 'I'm-buying-back-the-fuck-off' look, he shoved them back into their place.

* * *

She was gone for nearly an hour, taking her time to look about the roads. And the lines for the restraunt was ridiculous. She came jogging back, stopping infront of Al. Triumphiantly, she held up the bag of fast-food, only to be met with a grim face. 

"Al? Al-what's…It's not Ed is it?

He didn't reply only signaled for her to listen to talkative lady at the information desk a few yards away.

"They've tried to restrain 'im, but after he woke, lord, he was too strong. And now, the doctor's still a'tryin' to catch the dear, but not with much luck, I'd expect."

The thought occurred to her subconsciously before she had even stopped to think. Making her way up a corridor in which his sick room was located, she found several visitors and nurses alike bustling hurriedly in the opposite direction.

Several spaced rasping cries were emitted from someone in a room just a little further down.

_Please not Ed, not door number 731._

She stopped at his door. The threshhold stood ajar, and the sight inside caused her heart to burn in her chest. She could find no words, only stepping towards him, tears at the ready, and yet, still not coming.

Edward was pushed against a wall. An assistant was directly behind him, his arm barring the eighteen-year-old from moving his head, which was to the side, facing Winry. Ed's arms were also flat against the wall. The metal hand was clenching and unclenching. Another was checking an unpleasantly large needle, disinfecting it in the corner.

His golden hair was disheveled, but left in its braid. They obviously hadn't bothered to put him in a hospital gown. The black leather pants were ripped and revealed small scratches on the shins. A leather strap to hold down struggling patients adorned his left arm, obviously having been ripped from it's place. His shirtless torso had been half swaddled in bandages. And the skin that showed through glistened with beads of sweat.

With every pained gasp of breath he took, he grimaced, trying not to cry out. With no warning, however, he pushed himself hard off the surface, attempting to break free. The assistant wasn't impressed; with one strengthened shove on the neck, he was thrown back into the wall with a thump.

Ed let a small whimper escape his lips, eyes shut tight in agony.

"Is the sleeping-junk ready? This guy's a pain in the ass."

"Bastard."

The man kicked him squarely in the back of the leg, causing Ed to sink to his knees with a pained sigh.

"Be gentler with him. You'll put him to sleep without anything, kicking him around like that."

The boy might have said something sardonic if he'd had the strength, or the breath. Edward opened his eyes for a moment, and caught sight of Winry. His eyes were blurry from the drugs, but he could tell that girl apart from anyone.

"W-winry…?"

In disbelief, he caught her gaze. His amber eyes seemed to plead for some assurance that she was real. And for some odd reason, she could tell that such dreams had come to him. That too many times a dream Winry would slip through his fingers.

"Please- let him go!"

Ed pushed out again, this time, though, only half-heartedly. The assistant, however, was short of patience. The force with which Ed collided with the wall caused him to fall down on all fours. His breathing was winded. And yet, after a moment he managed to say through short gasps, "I don't fucking bend that way, Bastard."

And that was enough. He wasn't about to take this from a spineless---

* * *

Bane; "Ha! See! He IS spineless, or, more or less. See, as to those who are confused, Edward (isn't he gorgeous) does have a spine. But not a real one. As of now, it's forged of automail. That's what the assistant and I are referring to!" 

Drumstick and A; 0.o

A; "Hey Drumstick, You think there's a Guiness Record on 'the Worst Morbid Jokes on Earth?' "

Drumstick; "Does it matter? Bane would win whether there was a record before hers or not."

* * *

And that was enough. He wasn't about to take this from a spineless kid. With his foot, he delt a sharp tap in the middle of his back. 

Sores that surrounded the steel spine seared, and the newly woven stitches snapped with the strain. The breath was knocked once more from his lungs. Edward's wheezing lured another outburst from her.

"Damn it! Leave him alone!"

The assistant ignored her.

Ed was hacking now, unable to bend his back in order to double over from the agony, he supported himself, still on all fours. Eyes squeezed tightly shut, specks of blood began to stain the floor.

Winry pulled a wrench from her pocket and was aiming it at the man's throat when an abrupt shout stopped her in her tracks.

"CEASE!"

The physician looked thoroughtly irritated, and Winry had a feeling that up until now, he had been oblivious to the proceedings. He looked rather menacing, but whether or not that was due to the fact that he was still holding the ridiculously large needle in his hand, she couldn't say. The only thing that broke the silence was the violent coughing.

He rose onto his knees, clutching his stomach fiercely. Edward let out a quiet groan, and vomitted.

It was about this time that Al found his way into the room. A look of fuy lit up his eyes. He took in the scene. A doctor with a needle that looked more like a dagger, a burly man that seemed as though enjoying the moment, a very tense Winry grasping her wrench as though it were a scythe, and…Ed, sitting pale and unmoving, the blood beginning to stain the bandages through. Alfonse opened his mouth as though he was about to speak, but the doctor raised a hand.

"Rupert, I want you to go tell our dear Ms. Rogby that we've got needs of her costodial skills. And, Rupert," he added coldly, "I want you to tell her at what level you are to blame."

"Yes, sir."

"And Rupert?"

"Yeah?"

" We're going to have to discuss…" he paused to examine his fingernails, letting time add weight to his words, " Your use of brutality." As soon as the man was gone, he turned to a scornful Winry.

"You've going to have to tell that ass that I want to discuss a few things with him too."

He smiled, apologized for the behavior his comrade had exhibited, and said as though practiced thoroughly, I'm sorry, Ms. Winry, I'll have to ask you to leave this room. At this point, only family members are admitted."

Al gave her a sympathizing look, and nodded.

Throughout the next twelve minutes, the medical staff bustled in and out. On her third attempt, she caught the attention of one of them, a rather plump woman with too much mascara to be seen in public. Her eyelashes looked like resting stations for thick, black snails.

"Oh, nothing to worry about, dear. Just some stitches."

But from the squeaks of panic and hurry in her voice, Winry wasn't so sure.

* * *

_Bane; "Okay…bet you're really in a happy mood now."_

_A; "Muahaha."_

_Drumstick; sobbing_


	5. Things Well Hidden

**Chapter 5; Things Well Hidden**

_Bane; "Wow. You reviewers are the absolute coolest."_

_A; smiles_

_Bane; "Why are YOU smiling?"_

_A; "Drumstick's…disappeared."_

_Bane: "Oh…do you know when she'll be back?"_

_A; "Not for a good chapter or so."_

_Bane; "Did you get a chance to ask her why?"_

_A; "Ohh…I could…guess."_

_Bane; "And?"_

_A; "And what?"_

_Bane; "Well, what did you guess about where she's gone?"_

_A; "…She went to…Brazil."_

_Bane; "Oh, so you were teaching her Portuguese just a minute ago in the back room that stores all our knives, pointy objects, and magical teleporting devices!"_

_A; "…umm…sure."_

_Bane; "Was she any good at the language?"_

_A; "Some good…"_

_Bane; "Did she know anything?"_

_A; "What?"_

_Bane; "Did she know any Portuguese words to start with?"_

_A; "Oh. Yeah…she sure knew how to say…but…nevermind."_

_Bane; "No, say what?"_

_A; "She said that sex isn't the answer to everything."_

_Bane; "Oh. She has a good start. I bet she was dying to go to Brazil."_

_A; "DYING? She's NOT dying!"_

_Bane; "Aww, A, it was a metaphor. I'm sorry. Why so jumpy?"_

_A; "I'mnotjumpy. "_

_Bane; "I would be too. I'm sorry- didn't mean to scare you. You'd probably be so depressed IF she DID die. I would too. I wouldn't be able to write fanfictions for days."_

_A; 0.0'_

_Bane; "A…" recognizes guilty look "…You…"_

_A; X' ()_

_Bane; 0.o "You…A…you wouldn't…" o.0_

_A; "Why don't we…do the next chapter!"

* * *

_

**Bane; "But before we do, I'd like to say a few things to tell every wonderful reviewer who is reading this. (And every wonderful reader reading this, IN GENERAL). To some of you, I've been put under 'favorite authors' (2, isn't it?) Others have put my Fanfictions under their favorite stories. And I really don't think you understand exactly how great that makes me feel. But, in truth, there's something even better that shines through everything else. Now, A asked me the other day;"**

**A; "Why are you so happy that a lot of people almost cried about your story?"**

**Bane; "And this surprised me; I thought she, as a fellow writer would understand. But obviously she's never posted an angst story. (Yes, I'm changing it from drama to angst.) So, here's the reason (which will eventually be apparent).**

**I've cried for so many reasons, mainly, because someone else was sad (melancholy, or stressed). That sounds stupid, doesn't it? But think about it. I cried when I found out about _WarofShadow_'s life. I cried because my school friend wasn't happy that day. I cried when I understood that someone I had known for six long years had begun to break away. I cried. Isn't the phrase '_I cried_' so…weakening? But it's true. I did. But nobody ever tells about how they cried because something horrid occurs in the 6th book of _Harry Potter_. (Those who've read it, you know what I'm talking about…) Nobody really ever talks about how they sobbed over the passing of the main character of an enticing book. But people do sob. Just because it's never mentioned, doesn't mean it doesn't happen.**

**Now, put yourself in the eyes of a writer, not necessarily me. And pretend someone actually _tells_ you they cried over your character. Okay? That's wonderful. But there's still something deeper, more gratifying about hearing the words '_I cried_'.**

**If anyone who really doesn't like writing has ever HAD to write something, you'll surely be able to tell by reading it. It can't be devoid of emotion. And emotion forms the threads of everything. And someone saying that they liked the emotion is one thing. It is quite another to know that they almost shed tears over it, and this is why; It's an amazing feeling to have people that read your work actually be able to relate their feelings with those of the characters. It's phenomenal to string words together that not only catch the attention of the readers, but also have them feeling the exact emotion that flows through the character. And that's what makes a writer understand their place. That's what makes a writer feel like a writer."

* * *

**

A; "I'm just going to tell you, for her to be this happily descriptive about something so small, she must really love you guys, and must really love what you guys reviewed about. And without further ado; **Things Well Hidden**."

* * *

Bane; "I lied. There is a further ado. This is about 2-4 months later."

* * *

"I don't **_care_** whether or not it's 'family only' or not. I constructed the amazing bendable spine. I gave it to them, and they surgically fused it within him. Now that they've stitched half his body back together, and your overdose of drugs haven't killed him, I want to visit him. Let me in or this wrech will become family with your face!"

He winced for the nurse's sake, and was amused by her undergoing Winry's fury. It was about time something happened around here. So far, it'd only been treatments and psychological tests. But still, on the other hand, he relished the thought of what might happen if the staff tried throwing her out. Ed's thoughts were broken by his predictions becoming reality.

"I'm sorry, we're going to have to ask you to lea-"

He heard a thump, as Winry's tool must have collided with the now unconscious nurse's head.

Edward heard her mutter under her breath, "Don't fuck with me." Before entering his room.

* * *

Winry was fuming; her eyes blurred with loathing of the medical staff. But she still noticed the sight of him sitting upright in bed, in the process of writing something.

"Hey, Shrimp."

And she had thought that it'd be getting better. Ed barely even looked at her. He attempted to fake a smile, which only resulted in exposing exactly how despairing he was.

Trying to keep the conversation, she asked casually, "So, what's the novel for?"

He appeared confused at first, but after a brief pointing fit from Winry, he answered ruefully.

"I-uhh…bills for the medication."

It looked more like a journal to her.

"Oh."

He tried to nonchalantly pull the papers out of sight, but it was obvious.

"Are they that high?"

"What? Noo-I mean, yeah. Yeah, they are."

"Mmm."

The door burst open, followed by a very embarrassed Al.

"I'm sorry, it's hard to know my strength now that I'm…me again."

Winry laughed, and Ed? Ed's eyes twinkled with joy for only a second before they became dead and emotionless once more.

"Anyway, Brother?"

"What? Am I gonna' be let out?"

Edward's face lit up with sudden hope. It was now so plain that he hated everything about this place. Al's own features drooped slightly from the guilt that now flowed through his veins.

"No…sorry, Brother, they want you again at rehab in about ten minutes."

"Can I at least walk on my own?"

"The lady- Ms. Arntald- said that they're out of wheel chairs, and that I'd have to carry you."

"Did she say anything about Ed kicking and screaming?" Winry smirked, knowing full well that the metallic teen would do just that if he wasn't so injured that…that, well, that he'd actually need to go to rehabilitation, for one.

"I'm walking. Try and stop me."

Al grinned maliciously.

"This is why she gave me ten minutes this time, not two."

* * *

Ed's legs knocked together gently with each long stride that his brother took.

"You know, I'm gonna' chase you around this entire hellhole for this the day I get better."

He looked up in disgust from his place in his younger sibling's arms. Winry ran around them both and said something about how Al's baby brother was so cute. Another short crack- and still, it didn't do anything, no reaction. Maybe it was because he was so much taller at eighteen. Maybe. Still, Al was taller.

"Brother?"

"WHAT?" he snapped, still miffed at having to be carried.

"Have you been eating?"

"Umm, yes." He lied through his teeth. Lately, he hadn't had the courage to eat. What was the point? He'd have to eat again the next day.

"I _SAID_, have you been eating?"

How the hell did Alfonse know?

"Fine. I haven't, happy? I wasn't hungry, so I didn't eat."

"And how long have you 'not been hungry'?"

"A lunchtime today."

The glare this earned Ed caused him to release a heavy sigh.

" Fine. The last three days."

They had stopped moving now, and Winry was watching, wordlessly.

"Do you know what this is doing to you?"

Ed shrugged guiltily, this winced.

"You don't care, do you? Brother, starving yourself isn't helping you. You need calories. You've lost almost a third of your body weight. And over the last three days, you've gotten lighter. I can tell. Do you see how easy it is for me to lift you?"

His older brother wouldn't look at him. Did it matter? So WHAT if he'd lost weight?

"I'll be fine."

The phrase worked so much better when he could shrug his shoulders and walk off. Being held in the arms of someone, however, was not fitting, and it hurt to move his shoulders much.

"Look at me."

Gold locked into gold. Al almost dropped his sibling. No pride, no _real_ stubborness remained. A slight fleck of guilt, and more despair than Alfonse might have ever thought possible flashed back to him. No hope, no faith, and no joy resided in the depths of amber. Only a withered, dying look took solace in those eyes, only a look a bewilderment mingling with loss.

* * *

_Bane; "Damn it… Hey everyone, the full moon's gone. I didn't realize the day before yesterday was the last day…"_

_A; 0.o_

_Bane; "Just…to tell you…"_

_-silence-

* * *

_

"Lift your arm…Damn it, Mr. Elric, the point of rehab is to do it slowly. If you strain yourself like this, you're not going to get any better."

His instructor was fiery and short of patience, much like Teacher had been.

"No pain, no gain."

"You know who invented that phrase?"

"Does anyone?"

"No, Mr. Elric. And you know why?"

"No. According to you, nobody does."

"Because they pained so much, that they had no gain, and guess why you don't know them?"

"They didn't have to get automail?"

"Funny. They didn't gain enough to be known, and were ridiculed for their foolish words. And all that is known of them is that comic phrase."

"Mmm. is that a true story?"

"It'll be your story if you don't do everything slowly and stop using stupid phrases like that."

* * *

His muscles were weak from lack of movement- not that this was at all the blame of Edward. In fact, he had refused heartily to lay down for so long. Unfortunately, still having to heal from the two operations, and the sewing and fusing of skin against metal, his threats to walk out of the hospital on his own were cut short by the temper of Al and Winry.

And so, he was resigned to his fate. He went to every damn rehabilitation appointment, and suffered every psychiatric freak in the building.

Alfonse knew for the most part- that they were having him talk to psychologists, and actively irritating Edward. But only the basic information; he didn't know on what level this was necessary. If only he could have known.

* * *

_Bane; "I was gonna' cut it off here, but you've reviewed so much, and waited so long…"_

* * *

Edward's body relaxed a bit, and when Al looked down, he found that his sibling had nodded off on the way back from rehab.

"Mm. The pain-killers must be working."

"I really wish he wasn't so stubborn. He'd get better so much quicker if he didn't put up a fight."

"Yeah…stubborn…" Al trailed absent-mindedly, suddenly recalling the gaze they had shared earlier.

_Was it a trick of the light? Could it ever be possible for someone to feel that low? _Alfonse's thoughts were quick to reply to his own questions, _Brother could.

* * *

_

_Bane; "To those (who I'm sure are thinking it) this is not incest. OKAY? It's brotherly concern. Geez."_

* * *

In the next week, he had four psychologist visits, and on thefourth , they told him that, at last, he could go home.

* * *

"Hey Ed?"

It was one of those blessed moments when he was alone with Winry.

"Yeah?"

"How exactly did you start fighting with the doctors? They won't tell me."

He let a slight smirk cross his face.

"It's my fault. I panicked when I woke up. Apparently I'd had…a nightmare, and they planned on giving me another sedative, or something like that."

"That's it?"

"No. I tried to get up, but the pain in my back jumpstarted, I guess. So in the time I recuperated, they managed to get my right arm into one of the leather straps on the bed. I managed to rip it and roll out of the bed. I think the bigger guy kicked me a few times, everything was really blurred. I made a break for it, crawled to the door, and finally got it open. But the guy picked me up and forced me against the wall. The end."

Silence stood it's ground for moments before Winry, on a happier note, attempted to force it backwards.

"You realize you're going to stay in resembool, right?"

"Al and I don't want to be a burden…"

"You're going to be a burden if I have to carry you _both_."

* * *

_Bane; "I have to cut off here, but for a good reason. The next one has to be action packed, and it's going to be really, really, really long. And if I go any further, I'll ruin it. In the next 3-4 days, I'll have it finished. There are no review limits this time, because you exceeded my review limit by 3! But it would be nice if you reviewed…you know…to keep my motivation up… And a chapter from kikyoreborn9295 might be nice (go, my pretties, attack kikyoreborn9295!)_

_A; "Disclaimer; BANE DOES NOT OWN ANYTHING FROM FULL METAL ALCHEMIST. There. How many times do I have to say it?_


	6. Weaknesses

**Chapter 6; Weaknesses**

_Bane; "We're back with chapter 6. Okay, since this one will be over in another 1-2 chapters, I suggest I get it off my chest now. I won't bother with voting because only one person voted, and everyone else (especially the one that voted) wanted another EdWin. Too bad. Limitations (a pretty Al story) is going up next. THEN, I have another EdWinry planned. Both are angst, but romance as well. : 3."_

_A; "I'm bored. Wish Drumstick hadn't…gone away…"_

_Bane; "WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? You murdered her!"_

_A; "DID NOT!"_

_Bane; "DID TOO!" tackles A to the ground_

_A; "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"_

_-Door booms open-_

_Drumstick; "hey guys—what… are you…doing…" surveys two friends tackling eachother on the ground. 0.o_

_Bane; "Drumstick!" runs and hugs Laura_

_Drumstick; 0.0 "What…You're acting as though you thought you'd never seen me again!"_

_Bane; turns to A "I thought…you…"_

_A; "Okay. So she didn't go to Brazil. She went to visit her grandma."_

_Bane; 0.0

* * *

_

_Bane; "Disclaimer; I was walking down memory lane, and suddenly, it occurred to me; I'm officially bored with disclaimers. Aren't you? SO- I'm not writing any more for this story. I'll just say it once or twice per story. But, obviously, once it gets to the 6th chapter, I think you will have memorized the fact that; I DON'T OWN FULL METAL ALCHEMIST. -.-'_

* * *

_Bane; "I'm sorry it took so long to write. I will tell you, however, that I check reviews every few hours (or every 20 minutes). I wish to thank all the writers of the (20) reviews. And I wish dearly to tell you that without your kind words as my motivation, this would have taken twice as long to make. However, the time it did take was due to several reasons;_

_-grammar mistakes are obnoxious._

_-it had to be perfect for my awesome reviews, that is to say;_

_-it was difficult to portray the development of each individual character. And, again, if I made it vague, my readers would have no idea exactly what was going on._

_-and I mean, it was so difficult to maintain a time frame. It was easy to make thing happen fast and escape detail, but, then again, time adds consistant suspense._

_-I had to change every damn 'Alfonse' to 'Alphonse'. Thanks to the person that tipped me off._

_-This isn't a reason, but you will review complaining about this later. The reason that Ed doesn't just alchemize his arm into a blade is that Winry placed a transmutation circle into a layer of the automail that blocks transmutation of the arm for the time being. (later, I guess they'd remove it.) And this was done under the will of Alphonse._

_-enjoy."

* * *

_

_Bane; "I realized what a slob I was with dividers and grammatical mistakes in previous chapters. I added one small scene to the end of the last chapter and I plan to replace each of the other chapters as well. (With corrected ones…) My deepest apologies."_

* * *

He inserted the cue-tip slowly into the bottle of alcohol. It wasn't 'cutting'. And nobody could think of it as a sign of dire-need of a psychologist. Of which he already had.

The cue-tip resurfaced drenched and ready for use. He lay the alcohol-ridden tool against his just-healing rib. He didn't even change expressions, only closed his eyes at the refreshing agony that swept his side. For some reason, it gave him freedom for a few minutes just to know that it wasn't a dream, that all of this was really happening.

Since the moment he had awoken in the hospital, an insufferable torment had darkened his perspective. And the torment had a name, but no form, no way to show it's cruel breath and unfeeling grasp; life. And the only way to lessen the grief of this discovery was to create more pain to lessen the other.

Suicidal and solitary throughts revolved freely about his mind. If only he could break free- if only he wasn't bound by flesh and steel.

* * *

Suddenly unsatisfied, he lowered himself off of the bed in which he'd been lying. A small black booklet brimming with inserted leaflets protruded out from underneath the mattress. Edward gave it a quick nudge, and it went out of sight. Nobody could find it- nobody could know his thoughts. Nobody _should_.

The door to his room opened with a creak. Across from his, was Winry's bedroom. She ought to have been asleep by then. He mourned the way she kept her door closed every night. It would have been so wonderful to watch her sleep on evenings like this.

Soundlessly, he passed the stairway that spiraled up to the attic, of which he had made his thinking nook every so often. It was the one place nobody ever went. The floor up there was old and creaky, but the center of the area rested directly above Winry's chamber. By pressing his ear against the floorboards, he could sometimes hear her soft breathing as she slipped in and out of slumber.

Downstairs, Alphonse was watching t.v. . And below that floor was the basement, or basic workshop for Winry. The broken eighteen-year-old had to pass the living room in order to reach his destination. This acted as a complication; it was hard to sneak knives past his younger brother. Al had become increasingly concerned, and been almost forcibly father-like. And at some point, Edward had the impression that Alphonse knew more about what he was feeling than he let on.

The kitchen tile was frigid against his bare feet. The refrigerator hummed softly, it's tune a consistant hum that almost soothed Ed. But not enough to calm his pain. He slid the blade out of a wooden holder.

Edward calculated exactly which side he'd have to hide the knife on while he passed Alphonse.

Still, younger though he was, Al wasn't dull-witted. He had some idea as to what was going on. A glint of silver caught his eye.

Rising from the couch, the younger sibling made his way across the room until he was a foot away from Ed.

"Brother, what in hell are you doing?"

Alphonse had been blunt and somewhat unlike himself lately.

"Nothing."

His brother's glance towards the hand in which a knife was being unsuccessfully hidden caused him to look away.

"I...uhh…there's a loose floorboard in my room, I just need to…couldn't find the screwdriver…"

Al grunted, then snarled through gritted teeth, "Yeah. Give me the knife. I'll get the screwdriver later."

"Don't worry about it. I can live with a loose floorboard."

The blade switched hands. With the weapon in his grasp he let out an antagonistic sigh. In frustration Alphonse threw it away from him. It collided with the far wall and proceeded to delve deeper. It remained an intrusion of the wall to mark exactly how much rage he could possess.

"Show me your arm."

"What?"

A look of panic overtook Edward's expressions.

"I said show me your damn arm, Brother."

Slowly, he lifted his left arm and placed it in the outstretched palm of his younger sibling. Brow furrowed, Al looked it over, tracing every scratch carelessly. One looked fairly fresh; a thin line that ran down his forearm. It had begun to heal over, as though it were maybe a week old.

Edward could tell Al's temper was rising. He almost threw Edward's limb from his hands. As long as he didn't find out about his more recent technique of self-mutilation. As long as- something guilty must have surfaced in his eyes, because Alphonse said slowly, something like fury mingling with his unusually low voice, he growled, "Let me see your back."

He obliged,pivoting and lifting his shirt to reveal a line of steel that ran down his spine, and six small, vein-like branches parting out to act as a part of the ribcage. It was thoroughly obvious that he hadn't been eating regularly. The bone showed through, as though his skin had just been stretched over his bone-structure. The still-healing flesh around it was raw from the 'cleansing'. For a moment, the sharp smell of alcohol lingered about them.

"Leave the bottle outside your door. I'll get it later."

Ed went upstairs without another word. What else was there to say? Al didn't understand- would _never_ understand. Because he, unlike Ed, was _human_. Edward would _never_ be _human_ again.

* * *

On the way to his own room, Winry's door creaked ajar. There she was, in a silky white nightdress. She seemed particularly dazed.

"Winry?"

"Mm."

"You okay?"

She smiled at him, somewhat entranced.

"Gotta'…talk to…Al… soon. But…he's not…cute…not…not…"

She was sleepwalking. The thought suddenly occurred to him.

"Maybe you ought to got back into your bed, Winry."

"He's…he's not cute..cute..not…gorgeous…not…not like…Edward…"

Ed's eyes widened in shock. Did she mean that, or was it just the sleep talking?

"Like…like the way he…flips his hair… And…and …how he smiles…how…

how…how he used to…he never smiles…anymore…never smiles…"

"Why don't you get back into your bed now, Winry."

She yawned, and nodded, closing her door as she stumbled back into her sheets.

* * *

He lay on the bad, scribbling madly into the black journal; the psycologist had instructed that he do so, although she promised that she wouldn't inform his brother that she had. His thoughts and actions were to be written daily into it, and nobody else would take it from him. It was his alone, his to reflect on.

Edward didn't even know why he bothered, but, in a sense, it was like a friend that would listen to his thoughts, like a friend who couldn't bother him about skipping meals.

Ed's thoughts haunted him. Never had he felt so incredibly useless.

_She doesn't deserved you. Winry shouldn't even know you exist. You're not worth her time. You're not even worth the money your brother spends on hopsital bills._

But still, his love for her could not be denied. That was why he couldn't tell her. He couldn't bear her love- her affection for someone that was as low as him.

* * *

Tears ran down his cheeks, his grief for a brother so vast that his lungs burned. Anger and hurt mingled everywhere. He longed to understand. Where Winry and his efforts so insignifigant that Brother felt a need to harm himself?

* * *

A deep disgust formed in the pit of his stomach. He loathed himself. He hated every drop of blood that flowed continually throught him; keeping him alive, keeping him stable. But Edward _wasn't_ stable- not in the least.

Slowly, he ripped the corner covering of the mattress up about four or five inches. Ed pulled a spring from it. Careful not to make any sound, he opened a drawer from the bedside table. He brought from it a used stick of chalk.

He drew the symbol directly infront of the electricity outlet. He lay the spring in the center of the circle, letting blue light change its shape. The iron twisted into a straight iron rod less than two milimeters thick. With his foot, Edward wiped away most of the chalk marks.

Back against the wall, he poked one end of the wire to the inner-elbow. The other side, he stuck unhesitatingly into the outlet. The jolts caused him to shudder violently, and still, he persisted several times. Each voltage brought agony that uplifted him. And yet, with each passing 'uplift', he found it more and more difficult to remain lucid. His consciousness ended with a spark…and that's where Alphonse found him an hour later. He threw away the wire, laying Ed onto his bed with a look of introspective activity.

_If only mother hadn't died…Brother might not be so… unsteady. Maybe if father had…No._

Unlike his brother, Al wasn't one for blame, only solution.

* * *

"Wake up."

"W-wha…"

Sunlight shone ruthlessly through the window. Alphonse looked rather stressed, and to a point, wouldn't look directly at him. His gaze was directed downwards. It rushed back to him, the shocks, the knife…Al…Al must have found him next to the outlet… A web of fury spun within him. _Why did Al have to be so damn brotherly_?

"I'm not some kid you have to watch over."

"But you're some brother I have to keep from hurting himself."

The retort came blindingly painful.

"I'll handle it my own way."

"Oh, and how is that? First, dip yourself in alcohol because it-what- hurts? Then slice your skin, and finally, to top it all off, electricute yourself. That's your way of handling things?"

"You don't get it, do you?"

"Yeah. I do. You're derranged. _Disturbed_!"

The silence blared. Two pairs of golden eyes studied the floor. Edward was the first to speak.

"Look, I'm just not worth your concern. Let me do my own thing."

A tear fell to the ground. His pace was odd, revealing exactly how shocked he was. Clearly, Al hadn't expected such a reply. He had to fight to keep his voice devoid of melancholy as he whispered from the door, "Going to Central to tell the Colonel that we're resigning. Want to come along?"

"Sure."

"Don't pack any knives."

The door swung shut.

* * *

_Bane; "Phew. Oooh. Aaah. Wasn't that nice?"_

_A; "Brotherly love."_

_Drumstick; "Am I missing something here?"_

_Bane; "Don't worry about it, Laura. Anyway, I'm mean; I decided everyone would prefer an update that took two days less time than one ultra long one with barely any dramatic wait for the next one…YAY! So, let's count the things you got! You have;_

_-1 confession from a sleeping Winry,_

_-2 major screaming fits between 2 brothers,_

_-2 exhibits of self-mutilation,_

_-1 attempt at self-mutilation,_

_-1 hint of an item well worth remembering in the next chapter (oh, it'd be cheating if I told you which item),_

_-and more angst than you probably bargained for! Muahaha!"_

_A; "So…are you all happy?"_

_Drumstick; "Of course they're not. The story's not over."_

_A; "Oh…Yeah."_

_Bane; "Now, for minor comments._

_-Silent:Tears:Fall, I was wondering when you'd show up. : 3._

_-Kikyoreborn9295, thanks. YAY! ANOTHER CHAPTER TO READ!_

_-Basser & Anime-lover-95, It's good to know someone likes it! Thanks for the boost. Probably wouldn't've had so much motivation if it weren't for your reviews."_

_A; "Okay. That's it. Chapter's over. -.-' Nothing left here to see! CLEAR OUT!"_

_Drumstick; "Hey, A?"_

_A; "Yeah?"_

_Drumstick; "Isn't this public property?"_

_A; blushing "Oh. No wonder they started throwing_ stuff at me…"


	7. Claret Tears

**Chapter 7; Claret Tears**

_Bane; "Hmm. Smart reviewers. No quite smart enough, however, to beat my web of suspense. Muahaha."_

_A; "Don't feel dumb, actually, feel smart; REALLY SMART. She does this to everyone."_

_Drumstick; "I should know… :' ( "

* * *

_

_Bane; "By the way; a couple reviews I want to point out;_

-Evil Koga; "Heh... so Winry sleepwalks and even talks while she's doing it? -Laughs.- Tha'ts funy, what about when Winry finds out he knows? That'll be a kicker.  
Plus... I somewhat know what Edward is giong through, I'd use to have similer problems, started to cut and all... ya know... minor things.  
Anyways... still loving it... update soon."

_Bane says to that; "**Mm. Poor Evil Koga. I'm sort of problematical; I only bite my knuckle when I get pissed off enough. I have to- with a teacher like mine? The pisshole sent my out of the classroom. FOR LAUGHING QUIETLY. ONCE. I'm not a loud laugher, by the way. I was just 'being rude'. I bite my finger to keep myself from yelling at her. Suspension would be worth seeing her puckered face go purple with rage… My knuckle is scarred and man, can anyone guess how many days it stayed swollen and inflamed? Cause I chewed that thing hard. : 3. But thanks. "**_

-Silent:Tears:Fall- "Resining? Fake shock shock Won't Mustang enjoy that. but Ed is quite deranged at the moment. Considering how things are going I'm expecting an attempt at suicide soon. Ed must feel so alone even though he has so many people. Tsk tsk... lets all pity Ed!"

_Bane says to that; "**If it involves worshipping Ed, sure thing. Oh; I was in the mall yesterday, looking for a Full Metal Alchemist shoulder bag. I couldn't find one; and so spent my money on CD's…And straight afterwards…I found…the bag…-sob-. But anyway, that's not the point; I searched Ebay for a cheaper one, and guess what I stumbled across? Yeah! Another Edward plushie. AND an Al plushie. I SHALL BUY THEM! But back to Silent:Tears:Fall. Oh, yes. Mustang will enjoy it very much. Ed derranged can only make it more fun. Oh, damn, I didn't set it up for a suicide. Why didn't I think of that? –sigh-. He's alone. Very alone…PITY! Pity! But don't worry. Winry is going to have a stunning performance to play in this one.**"_

-Kikyoreborn9295; "Nice chapter. I love how Al is so freaking angsty in this story! And the sleeping Winry thing was nice. ) "

_Bane says to that; "**Ya' think so? Aww. Thanks. Sleeping Winry was nice, I guess. Well, Not many people have had Alphonse angry, and it seemed like the side he'd be more than willing to take at seventeen. Besides, an Al that throws knives into walls is just wicked.**"_

* * *

_Bane; "I read a fanfic that said Ed cutting was cliché. Is it? I'm not sure anymore… Review and tell me…DO YOU THINK IT IS CLICHÉ?" –sob-_

* * *

"Good morning, Riza."

She gave Mustang a reproachful glare.

"You call me by Hawkeye during hours."

"Does it matter what I call you, when…?"

Their lips melded together. Raven-hair brushed against her own, now desheveling blonde strands. Passion kept them together for several minutes. A knock came at the door, but no sound reached the pair. Only the worlds in eachother's eyes remained real.

The knob turned abruptly, and there stood Alphonse, looking a bit flushed, and behind him, Ed, seemingly blank and uncaring.

Riza glanced towards the threshold and her eyes widened.

"Colonel…"

Hawkeye left the room, leaving Roy to fend for himself. Still blushing profusely, Mustang watched Ed intently, waiting for a sarcastic remark that never came.

His mind was too occupied reflecting on the screaming match Al had started on the train. Ed had tried to put a lunch fork into his red overcoat pocket. Though Alphonse was much too vigilant.

"_Is life with me that bad?"_

"_It's not you."_

"_THEN WHO IS IT?"_

_Tears formed at edges of amber. But still, Edward refused to cry._

"_It's me, Al. It's me."_

Al sat infront of Mustang's desk, while his older sibling lingered in the doorway.

"What brings you back after so long, Elrics?"

Edward could feel Roy's gaze settle on him. Slightly uncomfortable under the unceasing stare, he shifted slightly.

Mustang thought he caught something in Ed's eyes. A flash of grief, a fleck of unsurpassable sentiment, _could it be possible that something had…_?

"Brother and I have come to resign."

Black eyes found Alphonse once more, and for a moment, he was a bit surprised. He hadn't noticed the fact that he was no longer a steel frame. It had been so long since he'd been human. Roy hadn't bothered to look.

A pocket watch and an identification card for Edward Elric slipped out of Al's fingers onto the desk.

"You know, we could really use you two, we've had trouble in—"

"Well, yes, but…we really couldn't use the military anymore."

A wry smile crossed the raven-haired man.

"Mm, that's just as well. I'm just glad you're both fully human again."

He had made a wrong presumption. And still, he noticed nothing.

"But I guess Edward could never be plagued by short-comings forever."

The short jokes were beginning to sicken him. They were a cruel remembrance of what he once had been. They now made no fury, only spread through him like a disease, like blood dripping slowly into water. Crimson loathing of his life.

Alphonse hesitated; he could tell this conversation was disturbing his brother.

"See…perhaps both fully human…couldn't be the right wording."

A swift glance of gold flashed over Edward, who had broken from his thoughts to watch both figures intently.

Amber bore into amber, inquiring if the words could pass through the room. Asking if the truth could pour into the mind of the witness before them. Unable to keep himself from shattering and exposing the agony he felt at mention of his inhuman qualities, he looked away.

The door to the office opened, and as he left, Edward coldly replied, "Go ahead. Tell him. Doesn't matter anymore." He saluted casually, and the door clicked shut.

Half an hour later, Alphonse appeared from the room, nodding at Ed's eagerness to leave. The train held silence for only moments before one of them spoke.

"I'm sorry, Brother, but he had a right to know, and I didn't think that I should have told him over the phone."

"Yeah."

* * *

She had never meant to pry. Winry had entered the confines of his room to lay laundry on his bed. But she found more; she found a small booklet that would allow her to enter the confines of his thoughts.

Winry remained loyal to him, and at first had no thought to view it. But as an hour passed, her longing to find the answer to his melancholy was irrepressable. At the first page, a deep saddness began to form in the pit of her stomach. In further pages, tears began to stream down her colorless cheeks.

"_Woke yesterday with Winry looking into my doorway. Wonder if she knows what I think about nowadays. Wonder if she knows of pain's gentle influence. I couldn't tell her, she shouldn't have to know I'm like this. Al shouldn't either, but the way he watches me all the time; he has to know."_

"_Al's increasingly worried. It shows in his eyes. Today, for the first time in too long, I hated myself. Couldn't escape it. Loathing fills me. I look at the sixty or seventy years I have yet to live, and feel like crying. Wish I could give it up. Wish I could give the time I have left to someone else, but not even alchemy can grant me that. And crying is weak. My psycologist acts as though she knows all. Her ignorance is probably the reason I'm not in an assylum…yet."_

"_Couldn't stand myself this morning. I found a shard of glass in one of the cabinets; Winry probably broke a cup and didn't want to have to mess with it. The crimson gave me new realization. New birth. For a few minutes, I felt like I was alive again; like I was meant to be alive again. Though, with time, it soon fades."_

It was true; she had broken the cup. Damn. Each grew steadily worse, until, near the end, she sighted one that spoke exclusively about her.

"_Heard Winry talking in her sleep. God, she'd beautiful, even when sleepwalking. She stuttered something about how…I was…gorgeous. And how I flipped my hair. Do I flip my hair? Wish I could tell her…but…worth is more than I can give her. I don't deserve her; I'm not good enough to hold her in my arms and feel the warmth of her gaze…"_

She read the rest, and began sobbing. She had never known. He could have killed himself and she'd have never even guessed. But, that's how depression went, wasn't it? Anger brought her to her feet. How could he? How could he do this to himself? How could someone who she had known once as a small boy with a talent for alchemy, and a sense of completion and happiness that reverberated wherever he went, be so lost?

* * *

"I need to go get a few medications from the hospital, can you manage on your own without any knives?"

"Fine. Whatever."

He made his way into the house. It was strange, subconsciously, to him that his door would be open…

* * *

It only took a moment for him to realize what had occurred. The journal slipped from her fingers as she wept.

"Winry…"

"How could you?"

"What? How could I WHAT?"

He was tired of everyone acting like _HE_ was doing this to _them_. Her voice was a whisper, and yet, the words remained clearly in his mind as though she had screamed them.

"How could you even try to fathom your own worth, when you know I love you?"

The anguish was hovering just inches above anger.

"You _deserve_ better."

"Better what, Ed? What could someone else have that you don't!"

"Someone else could have—"

He sighed, trying to find the right words.

"Someone else could have what? What else could they be other than _you_?"

"THEY COULD BE HUMAN!" he roared, suddenly overcome by the need to be understood.

"And what are you if you're not human?"

Winry, in turn, was white-faced and pale. Tears threatened to overcome her.

"I'm a screw up that made a mistake at the age of eleven that caused my brother to lose the rest of his childhood. I'm a military dog that has seen and caused more death than you can ever imagine. And I'm a metal-backed freak. Now, tell me you can call me human."

She no longer resisted the fluid. Rain fell freely from her eyes. And _he _had done this to her. _He _had caused her pain.

"Is that what you think, is it?"

"Yeah."

"What if I told you I can?"

"Then I'd say I'm not the only loony in the room."

She stamped her foot in exasperation, "So this is what you think it is? A JOKE?"

His expression had never been as serious.

"Jokes are for those who still have the will to laugh."

"So you think life is too over-rated to laugh?"

"Define over-rated?"

"Are you ready for death?"

"Don't remember writing anything about that in there."

"Oh? Then what is…this?"

She found the page and thrust it into his hands. He read the passage she had pointed out aloud; "_ I look at the sixty or seventy years I have yet to live, and feel like crying. Wish I could give it up. Wish I could give the time I have left to someone else, but not even alchemy can grant me that. And crying is weak._"

"Well? Are you ready for death?"

He looked at her; glimpsed at the pain a wretch like him was causing her. And he knew the answer at once. There was no holding back. There was no other option.

"Yeah. I'm ready."

And although she made no sound, anyone could have noticed the cry of anguish that flared like flame in her eyes. She walked towards Edward, pausing once she was before him. The pain of her hand across his face was almost relieving. But her words were all but.

"And I thought you'd always be _strong_ enough to cry. Even if you'd never show it."

He closed the door as she left. After a moment of reflection, he fell to his knees. Ed just sat there, staring blankly at the wall. The only thing that remained was the pain he had caused Winry.

_I'm ready._

He had only to go up to the attic. Nervous as he was, he heard Winry's wracking hiccups as she attempted to cease weeping. His pace quickened with renewed vigor; after all, this would be her last pain. There would be no Edward left to cause her pain. His path led him upstairs, into the aged scent of the attic. Just the atmosphere he deserved to die in. He had to use all of his strength to force the door open; the ancient knob needed replacing.

Edward scanned the floor for something sharp (or dull) that lay unused (or really rusty). And at last, he spotted a twoinch nail. In the center of the room now, he braced himself. He recuperated his will by remembering Winry's cry of anguish. It only took one swipe and it began.

* * *

She met him at the door.

"Winry, is everything all right?"

"Al, Al. Oh…I found…a notebook…"

She trailed off amid her tears.

"It's in my room…I'll show it to you…Just…follow me…"

* * *

Blood abruptlyflowed down from his fingertips, the scarlet fluid giving a bitter aroma to the surrounding air.

_Finally_, he thought. _Finally_.

Masses of red liquid puddled around him. A pang of loss swept through him at the sight of it.

_Too late to turn back now._

Only a few minutes past, he began to feel slightly dizzy. A sudden rush came to his head. Edward fell, his knees colliding with the wooden attic floor.

* * *

She led them into her room. Frantically, she clawed at the journal, holding it up for Alphonse to read.

"Please…Al. Please. Help him!"

Something dripped down from the ceiling onto the white pages of the booklet. It was crimson and…a drop of blood. More followed, now falling as though a morbid rain had come to haunt those who had failed to protect its previous captive. The blood had leaked through the floorboards, soaking the ceiling through.

The claret tears flowed more swiftly now. Winry let out a scream that resounded through the house, echoing in a mimick of her torment.

* * *

Everything was fading, now everything was slipping slowly into shadows. But among the darkness, one thing remained; Winry.

Even near to death, he recalled the scent of the perfume she wore irregularly, her presence…her smile. These memories, too, began to slip away.

_Can't forget her_. _Can't lose her_.

Once more, he abruptly hated himself. But not enough to die.

* * *

"Oh…my…god…"

She was crying again. Ed was gone. Ed was…no longer part of this world; no longer part of _her_ world.

* * *

He staggered to his feet, faltering for a moment. Ed had lost too much blood. If only he could reach the door, and wrench it open, he could be heard.

He lost his balance, collapsing onto the entryway. But even in his desperation, he knew he no longer had the strength to get it open.

Edward fell to the floor, and lay on his back, facing the portal to his salvation, and still, he hadn't the ability to stand. In a final attempt at survival, he kicked against the door with his metal leg. One…Two…Three…Four…No answer.

He began to shake violently. And for the first time in years of hidden agony, he wasn't afraid to lay there and sob, tears burning as they ran down his cheeks.

* * *

_Bane; "Muahaha?"_

_A; -sobs-_

_Drumstick; -double sobs-_

_Bane; -.-' ?_

_

* * *

Bane; "Tonight I'll release a songfic that redoes the suicide part of this. I'm naming it either Claret Tears or Tourniquet. The song is _Tourniquet_, by Evanescence; album '_Fallen_'.You like?"_

_

* * *

Bane; "Silent:Tears:Fall, yes, there was a suicide planned. Just didn't want you to know you were right before you read the chapter. Good presumption (Unlike Roy's)._


	8. Tourniquet

**Chapter 8; Tourniquet**

_Bane; "A couple of comments before we start."_

_A; "And this isn't one of them; where can Bane and I find the Full Metal Alchemist movie? Blockbuster is a piece of…"_

_Bane; "Yes, well… two of my reviewers said some things I'd like to contradict and or add to. And one of them seemed a little afraid of me. I don't want anyone afraid of me; I'm one of those people that just loves hugs. : 3 ._

_**EvilSqueede;"Jebus! You'd have to be either realy evil, or have known someone who tried suicide to write like that. I know Ed's always been a bit of an angst bunny, but what happened to make him loath himself so much. Maybe Al should try contacting Izumi. If Ed wants physical pain to help him deal I'm sure his old teacher would delever that request. Pluse I'm guessing she can help him emotionaly. When she tried to bring back her dead baby, Izumi lost most of her internal organs. I'm sure she was feeling pretty low about not being able to have childern anymore. She might have even felt less like a real woman, or even a human being. But I'm sure Sig whold have helped his wife cope with her deppression, and I'm guessing you're going to have Winery try something simalar with Ed."**_

_Bane; " Umm…okay. Yes, I'm evil, but no…not that evil. But…Damn…um…I know a few friends in low places right now. And those thoughts I wrote from Ed? Most of it was just made for this fic, but some of it came from a person dear to me. She has not commited suicide, and will not. I know her too well to misjudge that fact. But I know she thinks about it, and I know that sometimes she longs to. Izumi? Mmm. Yes, I suppose it would have been fitting."_

_**Silent:Tears:Fall; "I was right! Haha! I knew there was gonna be a suicide attempt! jumps up and down wait... Should I be sobbing cause pityED! is dying... strange me... at least he tried to turn back slightly.**_

_**FMA bag? O.0 I want one! I'm so jelous you have plushies! Curse you mother for making me save my money for university!"**_

_Bane; "Misunderstanding. I don't have plushies. I said I shall buy them…eventually…in a few months…My mom makes me save up too…-sob-…"_

_**X-Baka-Inu-X ; "Wow, I love this so far... O.o; Please update soon!"**_

_Bane; "See! That's a weirded out face! Why the weirded out face!-sobs-"_

_A; "Oh, and Evilsqueede? Due to your suggestion, Bane might mention Izumi, but… she doesn't know the character that well. It'd be too easy to make her out of character if she had her make an appearance. So…We'll see…"

* * *

_

_Bane; "By the way, didn't I mention lemony scenes? I mean, really. I worship Edward. So you think I'd just randomly kill him off?" _

_A; "Well, according to a couple of theeight reviews you earned for the last chapter, I'd say so."_

_Drumstick; "Is this gonna' be a long chapter?"_

_Bane; "Nope, relatively short, actually. Muahaha. But that's only because I have a VERY lemony scene after this chapter…"_

_A; "YAY!"

* * *

_

"Al, did you…?"

Her eyes were red from tears, and she was frantic. Al himself could barely hold himself upright. His brother, the last of his family, was… Tears didn't come; they weren't enough to express the fierce pangs of guilt that throbbed, one after the other. Maybe if he hadn't been so vicious about Ed's way of showing his despair, he wouldn't have taken that last unnecessary step.

"Al!"

His thoughts shattered.

"WHAT?"

She drew back, startled by his reply.

"D-do you he-hear that banging?"

"What bangin—"

He paused to listen, and abruptly understood.

"He's…" Winry never finished the sentence. The door to her room burst open, and she turned right into the stairwell. The attic steps groaned under her sprint. Fingers gripped clumsily over the doorknob.

"No!"

It wouldn't move. The threshold stole another precious minute from her. Yet, finally, with one enormous effort, she managed to thrust it open, hitting the wall behind it. Her breathless squeak of triumph dissolved into a choked sob at the sight of him.

He lay there, still attempting to rise into a sitting position. The crimson tide was everywhere. It flooded the floor and marked both flesh and steel. His harvest-moon-coloured braid was nearly scarlet. In his right arm he cradled what was left of his lacerated limb.

* * *

_Bane; "To those who didn't understand, it's not 'cut off'. His arm is just extremely cut _up_."_

* * *

The metal hand was clamped across the wrist of his human hand, attempting to cease the flow. His still falling tears merged with the blood. And his amber eyes held no light, no sparkle.

"Ed?"

He winced at her words, and gazed up at her.

"S-sorry…wasn't ready…not ready."

"Oh, Ed...why…?"

She knelt down beside him, brushing the hair away from his face. Edward grimaced, almost expecting her to yell, to scream at him as she had before. Her touch warmed his cooling skin.

"…Winry…I…"

"Ssh, it's okay. I'm going to help you."

"N-no…I wanted…to—"

He coughed, a spasm running through him.

"—to…tell you…that I…I…"

She leaned over him, her nose milimeters from his. Their eyes melded into eachother's. Their lips touched slowly, each savoring the other in case…in case it would never happen again…

Edward felt something soft and dry wrap around his wrist, and felt the moisture begin to dissapate.

It was then that he drifted slowly into darkness, blue eyes dancing in a swirl of black.

* * *

_Bane; "Mmm. Wouldn't it be absolutely cruel if I left it off here?"_

_A; "You…You wouldn't..." 0.0_

_Drumstick; "…Would you?" :'(_

_Bane; "No. I still need to play an event in this chapter…"_

_A; "Mm."_

_Bane; "By the way…For those who actually plan to review about it…Al isn't REALLY out of character. I mean, I'd be out of character if my brother tried to committ suicide. Wouldn't you? And plus; this scene opportunity was too much to pass up."_

* * *

A mild prickling in his wrist woke him. At first, he dared not open his eyes. Maybe he was in Hell…paying for the ultimate sin. Then, feeling that at least Hell wasn't as hot as he would have imagined, he let his eyelids recede slowly.

If this was 'the Deep South', it was identical to the world he had just left. Edward was lying on Winry's sofa, a thick padding of gauze at the base of his hand.

So, he hadn't died. This new turn brought mixed feelings to him. He now had a purpose to live; he knew exactly how deep his love for Winry had grown. And yet, living would still be as hard as it had been since he'd last left off. And how would Al react…

A pair of golden eyes watched him stir. Although worry had been the primary response for the last three days, now that Edward was recovering, Alphonse couldn't help his fury from bubbling over.

Suddenly, he noticed his sibling observing him unblinkingly from an armchair situated some two yards away.

No words passed between them.

Abruptly, guilt slithered through Ed's mind. What must Al be feeling? Attempting to prop himself up, he leaned on his mangled hand, earning him an intense shot of agony to jut straight up his arm. He had to grit his teeth to keep from cyring out. Unfortunately, Alphonse seemed to think this an appropriate signal to converse about his least favorite subject.

"Blood transfusions…But I've asked myself over and over, _Why_? _How could you need one in the first place_? But I can't think any reasons over. So I was hoping you could."

Edward recomposed himself in a matter of seconds.

" '_Why_' is a very broad question."

"Well, suicide is a very broad possibility."

"Not if you think about it that way."

"Well, if I didn't, my blood would probably be raining down on my only brother and my childhood friend too, now wouldn't it?"

His voice was decidedly calm, but it remained apparent that the cover would blow soon enough.

"I…I really don't want to talk about this right now."

"Then when else are we going to find the time to talk about it?"

"When I haven't just woken up—"

"Woken up from trying to kill yourself. I see this as a perfect time. Especially just when you're fresh from the kill. Or…almost."

Al was close to hysteria. Something was wrong…something…Although nobody could see it, everything was unraveling inside him. Life was not as it should have been when he got his body back. And his (brotherly) love for his sibling was seemingly disintegrating as his fury began to increase.

"Alright, you want to know why?"

"Yeah."

"Because I'm so sick of being like this, in this dying body. I'm sick of hurting Winry. I'm sick of hurting you. And I so damn sick of this fucking world."

"What dying body?"

His heart shredding, he held up his arm.

"The dying body that's given up waiting for me at the gate. And the inhuman steel that practically makes up by being."

"You can talk."

He hadn't meant to say that. It had just…come… Edward's face mirrored his guilt, and Al's anger evaporated. Ed rose to his feet a bit unsteadily, and began to walk to the front door. Snatching up his red overcoat, He opened the doorway.

"Brother, I-I didn't mean…"

Amber eyes gazed at him for a moment.

"It's my fault, Al. I mean, I've practically killed my own _soft-spoken_ sibling."

"No—that's not…"

But he begun to make his way down the driveway, not even bothering to close the doorway; not even knowing where he'd go next.

* * *

_Bane; "Obviously, there are still some questions. Ed wasn't killed because Al did some blood transfusions. (yes, it can be, and has been done to people who have attempted tocommitt suicide …) _

_Anime-lover-95 commented on how I should name the last chapter Crimson Death, but I think that although this is a good suggestion, the present name is more suiting. 'Claret Tears'. But most wouldn't know what 'claret' means. So…it means bloodred, or deep wine red. So…bloodred tears…yay?"_

_A; "Sex is next, right? Sex?"_

_Drumstick; -still sobbing- "What'cha' do that for? Al and Ed were always nice to eachother…"_

_Bane; "Adds angst, and it's fun to write. Plus, it's a reasonable reaction. : 3"_


	9. Yesteryear

**Chapter 9; Yesteryear**

_A; "YAY!"_

_Drumstick; "Is it as sad?"_

_Bane; "Maybe…but it gets cutesie in this one."_

_A; "Yay?"_

_Drumstick; -grin-_

_Bane; "Okay, I'm truly sorry that the last chapter was short…but I published another story to keep you busy at the same time…"_

_A; -.-' "Joy."_

_Bane; "And Basser made a good point. Although I can't keep it completely clean, (remember, I have A for a friend…)NEVER EXPLICIT.But the romance will definitely be strong in this chapter…even if it's not including so much mattress dancing._

_A; grumbles_

_Drumstick; "Yay! Clean; or, just not as muddy. That's good for me!"_

_A; begins pelting Laura with lemons_

_Drumstick; "Mercy!"_

_A; smirks "Wanna' say something bad about lemons again?"_

_Drumstick; "Noooo!"_

* * *

"You yelled at him the second he woke?"

His face was in his hands.

"After being asleep for the last three days after a suicide attempt, you yell at him first thing? Damn it, Al! Can't you think it through?"

"Winry…I…didn't mean what I said…"

"What _did_ you say to make him leave, then? You never told me…"

"I told him…he said something about being sick of being in his dying body; about how he was tired of being composed mainly of steel…"

"And…?"

"And I said 'you can talk'."

Tears welled up his his eyes…why had he been so infuriated?

"Dumb-ass."

She, in turn, made her way gracefully to the door, slamming it shut. Maybe she could find him…

* * *

He wandered aimlessly, finding his way to the hill Al and he used to lie on. Too familiar… He roamed farther, finally settling down to sit next to a river; the place where they had spent too many timeless hours swimming and yelling together, just the three of them.

God, how everything could change so quickly…

Despair still swam endlessly about his mind, but now he knew it; now he could control it. He now realized that, after coming so close, he had no real wish to die. He just longed that Al wouldn't screech at him. But then, didn't he deserve it…?

* * *

_Where the hell would life's shortest reject hang out_? She thought to herself. Had it been eight years before, she could have told anyone, but now…?

_Is he so much different_?

_Couldn't be…_

The hill? He wasn't that careless. He'd know one of them would go to look for him. She walked further, and paused when she saw him in the distance. He lay in the grass a yard or two from the river, arms folded beneath his head. The sound of his breathing still caused her heart to skip as many beats as was humanly possible.

Winry walked up to him, pausing to watch him in his slumber. It was then that she lay beside him, letting her cheek brush up against his ribcage. She fell into a deep and restful sleep there, listening to the water flow, grass rustle, and feeling the warmth of the first boy- now man, she had ever loved.

* * *

He woke to the setting of the sun. He made to get up, but felt a slight weight at his chest. Looking down, he noticed a still sleeping Winry beside him. He didn't know how she had come to be there, but here, at this moment, with her cuddled up beside him, he didn't really care. Carefully, he removed the red over coat, laying it gently over her. Edward then lay back down, waiting for her to wake.

Winry was brought from her sleep with a slight sigh.

"Sleep well?"

The voice was perfect to wake up to.

"Mmm. Yeah. You?"

"Never better."

"Guess we'd better head baaaaa-whoaaa!"

Edward scooped her up and placed her in an upright sitting position onto his shoulder.

"Thank god you make the best automail in the world. Might not have been able to do this…"

"Thank god you hit your growth spurt!"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, if you hadn't grown any since I last saw you, this would have been like riding a miniature pony."

"Remember you wanted one for Christmas…?"

"Once! When I was five!"

"It was five years in a row, and you were seven."

She blushed profusely.

"Can't believe I still remember that…"

"Mmm."

He began walking slowly towards home.

"Oh, Ed?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you still as clumsy as you've been since…since well, since the day I met you?"

"I'm not clumsy!"

"And you knocked over the sugarbowl at my house? Den was just a pup, and you scared him to death."

"I didn't do that, did I?"

"Damn right you did. And then you fell down the stairs. I laughed myself silly."

"Oh yeah! I remember, but that was because you were tickling me."

"Was it?"

He laughed again. The sound was uplifting. It'd been too long since she'd heard that sound…

He wasn't particularly holding interest to the ground in front of him, and ended up tripping spectacularly on a malicious rock. Winry, still perched on his shoulder, was thrown upwards, whereas Edward landed on his back, skidding a few feet. He caught her in his arms. Perfectly placed, she leaned over, and after a moment's hesitation from both of them, they shared a lasting kiss.

"Told you you were clumsy."

"Don't see you complaining."

Their lips connected once more, only this time the link was more passionate.

"Think maybe Al's worried?"

"Think maybe I'm pissed at Al?"

Ed threw her a look of confusion. Why would she be pissed at Alphonse?

"I'll explain later."

They rose to their feet, making their way further into Resemboul. Their hands closed around eachother, the warmth giving their hearts reason to swell with joy.

* * *

It was 9:53 when they reached home. Edward smiled at her, planting another kiss on her forhead. Turning to leave, the tails of his overcoat flew.

"Where the hell are you going?"

"Dunno. Somewhere, I guess."

"You dumb-ass. I have a house; you're right next to that house. It's late. It's night, and low and behold; you can have your own room."

He murmured something softly.

"What?"

"Nothing. I just…can't…"

"And why not?"

He sighed, his eyes wandering, as though it bothered him to say it aloud.

"Ed, you can tell me…"

"Al didn't sound like he wanted me around here any more."

Was that what he thought?

"He was just a little mad…"

"A little? But then again, he had reason to be…"

"It'll be fine. He'll be happy to see you're back."

"I'd really rather not…"

"Since when is the Full Metal Alchemist scared of his own younger brother?"

"Since he started throwing knives into walls."

"Ed, please, for me?"

He sighed at this; he knew that she was banking on him noticing the note of pleading in her voice.

"Fine."

She led him inside.

Alphonse lay asleep on the couch, and it was difficult to remain quiet between the two of them…

* * *

Bane; "Isn't it classic?"

A; "A little TOO classic."

Bane; "Goddamn it A. It isn't just for show."

* * *

"Mmm." Winry mused.

Their fingers still interlocked; they made their way up the stairs.

He looked at his door and his heart sank.

"Well…goodnight…"

"Yeah…"

They parted, finding their beds in their separate rooms. Edward pulled off his boots. He sat upright on his mattress for only minutes before going back into the hallway. He paused for a moment, then brought his hand up to knock on her door, when, suddenly, the door opened. Winry stood at the knob in a red nightgown. Both blushed. "I…was…just… " They said in unison.

"Cold tonight…"

"Yeah…"

"You…want to…come in?"

He nodded, and entered. It smelled like roses…

The both got into the bed, snuggling up closely to eachother. Ed breathed lightly into her hair. The aroma was not of roses, but of orchids.

Bane; "By the way, just got out of Sex education… So…yeah… a little scared so far. Be warned. Basser, keep reading. It's not going to be detailed…"

"You smell… beautiful…"

Her smile broadened. From anyone else, it would have sounded odd, but from Ed, and Ed alone…well, it was magic.

They kissed chastlely for only a moment before the entire world was shut out. Passion burned in their minds, driven by the love that had been blossoming for seven long years.

Clothes were a drawback; and it didn't take long to be free of them. Her skin was pale and silky, her body graceful and thin. Slender, that was the word. Ed was muscled in all the right places, now taller than he once had been.

Edward marveled at the ease in which their bodies melded together…

* * *

She woke up pleasantly in his arms. He himself was watching her, his golden eyes dancing with love and amusement.

"Good morning, Sunshine."

"Since when do you call me Sunshine?"

"Since I woke up to find the sun glistening next to me."

"Mmm." She yawned.

Silence flowed freely.

"Why do you keep staring at me? Surely I wasn't that bad last night."

She threw him a look of exaggerated scorn as he laughed.

"You're…just so…brilliant."

* * *

_Bane; "You thought I was going to say beautiful, didn't you? WELL I'VE GOT NEWS FOR YOU! Earth to Originality; Bane's in town!"_

_Drumstick: "You're taking this a wee too far."_

* * *

They both got out of bed, throwing furtive glances, and trying not to be caught doing so. Once both dressed, Winry opened the door slowly. Someone was cooking downstairs. Al must have gotten home early. She shut the door once more.

"Well…I'm going to go take a bath…"

"Oh…umm…yeah."

In silence for too long, Winry blurted what had been on her mind for too long, "So...what made you do it?" "In that I loved you." Came his distant reply.

"You tried to kill yourself because you love me?"

"Yes."

"Oh. It all makes sense now!"

The hint of sarcasm didn't go unnoticed.

"I knew I was causing you pain…and I couldn't stand it."

Understanding burrowed deep within her. She had caused him to attempt suicide. Her words, forged for the sole purpose of shaking sense into him, had done nothing but push him forward; off the cliff.

"I'm…sorry."

He turned to look at her, letting his golden eyes rest on the tears that rolled down her cheeks.

Smiling, he brushed them away.

"It's my fault. Not yours."

Her reply was a shy smile forming at the edges of her mouth.

"There."

"Thanks, Ed."

"Maybe we'd better get up now. Al will be waiting."

"…Or maybe," Winry began with a somewhat devious tone, grabbing a shampoo bottle, "You know, I've always wanted to wash that hair…"

He grimaced, and tried to back away. It was too late; she had him in her clutches.

* * *

Bane; "I've decided how I'm gonna' end the next chapter. It's gonna be really short, but very satisfying."

Drumstick; "Then, we'll all put everything into 'Limitations', and start on Bane's new favorite idea for another Ed Win fic."

A; "And it'll be as angsty as this one, only…new turn. Not telling you what!"

Bane; "You'll just have to read Limitations and review until I decide it's time to release it. Muahahahaha!"

A; "But don't leave, the chapter's not over!"

* * *

Al sniggered silently as Ed and Winry came down. It was obvious that they were trying to come up with a reason that both of their hair was wet. But work had to come before play.

He winced.

"Brother?"

Tension levels rose.

And Winry knew it.

"Can you say testonsterone face-off?"

She left the room in a hurry. Leaving Alphonse blushing and Ed with a look of disgust and abandonment.

"Brother?" Al asked again, his voice smaller than the first time.

"Yeah, Al?"

"I'm sorry…I didn't mean…it just came out."

"Al?"

"Yes, Brother?"

"I would have done the same thing to you."

This sent a pang of relief, and a slight jolt of uneasyness. Exactly how hard had he been on Brother? And exactly what would he have to go through if he found himself in the same position later?

Alphonse's eyes narrowed, bringing a laugh from Edward.

"You want me to go tell Winry to come back?"

"Umm…I don't think I could say…"

"You couldn't tell her that the testosterone match is over?"

He nodded feebly.

* * *

_Bane; "Happy? Long chapter!"_

_A; "We're sorry it took so long. A lot on Bane's mind… and yet, it's so empty inside…"_

_Drumstick; " Whatever."_

_Bane; "So…wow, 42 reviews! You're got to be kidding me! I LOVE YOU GUYS! (AND GIRLS!) Wanna' try to get it to 50 to earn the last chapter…? Please?"_

_A; "That means she loves you guys. See how long she worked perfecting this chapter?"_


	10. Tomorrow

**Chapter 10; Tomorrow's Wake**

Bane; "I am officially disgusted with myself. I had to rewrite some of the last chapter (check it out, I replaced it!) because I reread it through. It is some piece of shit. I want any of my regular reviewers to tell me the next time I do that, because I love you all, and as long as there's no flaming, I need to be told where to rewrite the line."

A; -reads through all of the reviews- "Well, you got way over 50 reviews…and most of them say update. Why didn't you?"

Bane; "Because I was making sure that there were no reinactments of Chapter 9. Besides, I shall list all the things I wrote in between;

You now have;

-1 rewrite of Chapter 9 (Brought to Light)

-1 rewrite of Chapter 9 (Brought to Light) with a lemon on top…

-1 Chapter (Limitations) (Chapter 3)

-One Entirely New Project! (The Moon's Chime) (Chapters 1 and 2)

-Plus, I have a new Ed-Winry started…and being updated soon…

Good enough reason? And besides that, I started a whole different one-shot…and it's going to be a lot different from what I normally write…"

* * *

"Journal, 

I've decided that this be the last time I write on these pages. After all, I have really no need to.

The day before, we had to put Den down. He had a bladderal infection that developed some four months ago.

I had a pang of guilt, after all, had I not come so close, and yet broken away? Wasn't there still that chance that he might have recovered? But it was too late. The dog was limp and unmoving.

We gave him a proper burial for memory's sake. And Winry cried on my chest throughout the night. It broke me a little to see her like that. And yet, the tears fell consistantly. I just held her, what else could I have done?

Roy and Riza announced their engagement last week. They are to be eloped in the summer. Maybe we'll expect Mustang's foal next year as well. Though I can't decide who would be the dominant one in this relationship. I want to say that it would be Roy, but then again, Hawkeye is… Hawkeye.

Armstrong is currently dating someone out of the military; a brunette. She's oddly laid back, bull-headed, and truly in love with him. We couldn't be happier. After all, now that she hugs him, he doesn't find the need to suffocate us.

A fortnight before, I was called to Central. Winry was forced to stay home, and I think she was a little more than pissed.

Our conversation at the base was strange. I couldn't quite name it at first, but as time passed, I finally understood. For once, Mustang, bastard that he is, wasn't speaking to me as though I was purely adolescense.

"So, Full Metal, how do you find marriage?"

"Why, are we beginning to worry about it?"

A laugh escaped him. Was that the first time?

"Just merely curiosity."

I coughed half-heartedly. What was he playing at?

"You brought me from Winry simply out of mere curiosity?"

His smile broadened.

"Not simply. I just figured you'd need to support Mrs. Rockbell now that you're—"

"I'm not going to be like Hoinheim."

"What are you talking about?"

I sighed. Was he going to make this so damn difficult?

"I'm going to be a father."

"Since when?"

"Since seven months ago."

"But at the wedding—"

"—She was three months on."

He paused for a moment, then nodded in understanding. He was piecing it together slowly.

"Is Al excited that he's going to be an uncle?"

"Al died while we were gone on honeymoon."

He drewback slightly. Had he not heard?

"…H-how?"

Obviously he was feeling pangs of guilt for having brought it up.

"The body I managed to get for him wasn't stable enough to withstand for long periods of time. He…-"

I struggled to keep speaking, for the sight had replayed in my head as we approached the kitchen that night.

"He combusted. He must have been gone only two days before we returned."

The blood had been everywhere. The remains splattered the walls, engrossing the house with its decaying aroma. Immediately I sent a sobbing Winry from the house. She had stayed with Hawkeye at her residence.

It was the hardest task I ever had to do; scrubbing my brother off of the kitchen tile.

Roy didn't speak for a few minutes, taking in the information that had just been offered.

"I-I'm sorry, Edward."

I shrugged, averting my eyes. Clearly he wished to change the subject back on course, so be blurted, "Need a job?" I remembered my previous objection and summoned up the role.

"This entire conversation never went into your head, did it? See, if I don't want to be like Hoinheim, then obviously, the best thing to do is not to completely abandon my kid for work."

"Tell you what, you can be a work-at-home dad."

"Oh? And how do you figure that?"

"I figure that I'll send you paperwork, you fill it out, you send it back. Just like everyone else does. If I need your service, I'll call you in on rare occasions. Sound good to you?"

I nodded, and then, suddenly, everything clicked.

"Of course… you could move to Central, we can provide a suitable place for the family…"

"I'll talk to Winry about it."

That meant yes and he knew it.

"Al came to work this agreement out with you, didn't he?"

His silence gave me my answer.

I accepted the offer, hoping I wouldn't regret it later. Winry needed support, and there weren't any high paying jobs in Resemboul.

While I waited for the hours to pass, I bought her a pair of wrench earings at the Central Market. Hopefully they'll distract her from their bigger counterparts.

This morning I watched her making her tea, her swollen stomach giving her setbacks. When I offered to assist her, she held up a tool that looked oddly like a wrench. No such luck.

The elopement occurred four months ago. She's due next Winter, so I guess everything worked out perfectly. I just hope we won't have to use Winry's best idea for a girl name; Edwina.

-Edward "

* * *

Bane; "So it's kind of short. I thought it'd be sweeter that way. Depends on how you look at it." 

A; "Review!"

Drumstick; "Edwina?"

Bane; "You know how I lie about last chapters? Well, the next one is going to be fillers and connecting of loose ends. Basically, on-topic drabbles."

A; "Oh, so…still another chapter?"

Drumstick;"YAY!"

Bane; "Yeah, and after that, I'm going to post and comment on every review that I received, and make it a Chapter (12). Isn't it great?"

A; "You're going to do 85 comments?"

Drumstick; "She has too much free time on her hands. What else can she do?"


	11. Long Past Forgotten Memories

**Chapter 10; Long Past Forgotten Memories**

_Bane; "I figured there were too many moments that had not been exploited to let this come to a close. These are 'on subject' drabbles. Which is an oxy-moron, I know…."_

_A; "But still…enjoy."_

_Bane; "Ah, yes… Basser, I hate to say it, but your triumphs are not all satisfactory. There will still be a lemon for this chapter… simply not as part of this fanfiction…Muahaha."_

_A; -dances- -applies to learn lap dancing-_

_Drumstick; -.-' "Not even going to say it… I have such self control…. Won't say it…"_

_Bane; "Okay; this is the abosolutely last chapter (except for Commentary and Acknowledgements.) And, speaking of Commentary and Acknowledgements, I ought to explain how it's going to work. I'm going to arrange it into sections, composed of reviews from each person. How high up on the list your name might be will be determined by how many people came and read (and reviewed) before you._

_I will update it regularly and add any newer reviews as we go. I find it necessary to say how you'll know that I updated it; It will say in the summary; 'update; 1…2…3…etc.'_

_I suggest that you read them all, though. A & I think that they will be very amusing. Yes, I'd bust my hand for you guys; I wrote it like that JUST to prove how much I luv' ya'll…" –shifty eyes-_

_A; "I DO NOT FIND IT AMUSING!"_

_Bane; -.-' "Okay, only I do. Whatever. Anyway, besides that, I will be moving to From What We Once Were as my main effort. Limitations is still going to be continued, however._

_A; "The Moon's Chime didn't receive much attention."_

_Bane; "Yeah. I kind of noticed. That's why I deleted it..."_

_A; "Onward bound!"

* * *

_

"Do you suppose Den's okay?"

Ed shrugged, then shoveled another forkful of meat into his open mouth dodgedly.

"Edward?"

The golden-haired boy gave a pointedly inquiring glance at Al. How could he respond to Winry's direct question? Alphonse replied with an illthought-out blurt.

"Ummm…-er-… I'm sure he's fine."

Edward nearly blew some rice out of his nose from supressed laughter brought by this newest portrayal of his brother's descrecy. Winry might have glanced at him reproachfully, had she not still carried a look of worry. And Ed might have comforted her… but what could he say?

A short kick was delt to Edward from under the table.

"Owwww--wwwwow, er, this steak is really…"

His gaze was so averted, his eyes might as well have been fused to his plate. _Kick_, _kick_, _kick_.

"Den probably just got some indigestion."

Winry seemed massively relieved, and Al's impatient 'hints' ceased.

* * *

He had tacked his eyes to his paperwork that day, a feat which took most of his concentration. After all, she was always there in front of him, her eyes shining, smile heart-warming, and blonde hair brilliant…though, her triggerhappy threats… not so much.

The afternoon before, she had consented to a dinner at his place. Roy had bought the ring the following hour.

He now layed out the tablecloth on the dinning room table; it was small enough to sit two people comfortably. Mustang then placed two candleholders down; followed by the actual tapers.

The meal was slightly trickier. With an experienced hand, he pounded two forms of red meat until he was absolutely sure they were tender. First washing his hands, then slipping into an ignition glove, he snapped his fingers. Roy was careful not to let them roast past the point of medium rare; that was the way Riza liked it.

Next, he practically flew down the flight of stairs to the cellar. From a respectably full rack of well-fermented wine, he took a small bottle. It was perhaps two-thirds the size of the bottle as the various others, fairly mocked by their considerable difference. But Mustang was experienced in their tastes, and knew that this would undoubtedly be the one to please her.

It was a sweet white wine, a product from the vineyards in deep France. The elegant label was emblazoned with the golden imprinted words 'MUSCAT de BEAUMES de VENISE.' Placing it amongst two crystal wineglasses, a light knock at the door stirred his attention from preparation.

He opened the threshold to find Riza standing there, the small droop of her shoulders almost unnoticeable. She wore a black silk dress that served to define her most attractive curves. It came down past her knees, but revealed all but two sixteenths of an inch along her shoulders; thin 'spaghetti staps'. Around her neck she had left her dogtags, though they had been restrung onto a delicate chain that suited the dress much better. Her hair had been released from its usual tight-knit captivity, now in a loose ponytail that flowed to the point of her shoulder blades. Her heels were sensible, and by the way she stood, he could tell she found them comfortable to walk in.

She smiled half-heartedly, but he could tell she was having second thoughts about the outfit. It was clear, only to Roy, she was nervous as to what he would think of this more casual Hawkeye. It was silly, she had reasoned with herself, to worry her-self over what the man she had been courted by for seven months would think of her appearance. But she was concerned nonetheless.

"You look…" There was a slight pause as he took her hand and lead her inside, "…Radiant." This seemed to set her at ease, something that he enjoyed to see.

Riza's eyes wandered along the lengths of the living room and kitchen for seconds before they rested upon the set table. They widened in pleasant surprise; it still amazed her that he would go to such trouble to give her joy.

"Would you like to sit in the living room and talk, or dine now?"

"Whatever you want, Roy."

He gave a grin and pulled out a chair for her. Riza allowed herself to be seated. Mustang declined from her offer to help; she was obviously not used to not having to do _anything_. Gracefully he brought the arranged plates down onto the table, presenting hers before her almost flauntingly. (She had once stated that she doubted even a man of _his_ stature could cook.)

"You thought I was going to buy pizza, didn't you?"

She didn't answer, but the hint of laughter in her eyes gave the wordless response away. He watched her cut the meat with highly distinguished ettiquette, bringing it tentatively to her lips. _She_'_s taunting me, now_, Roy thought laughingly.

But it soon became apparent that his efforts had not gone unsuccessful. She smiled delicately, and continued to comsume her meal lightly. _Like a bird_, a distracted Colonel mused.

When, at last, both were satisfied, he took away the plates. But, to her confusion, he sat back down a moment following; as though he had no intention of leaving the table… not just yet.

"Now, Riza. I suppose there's a time in an average man's life that he has to come up with a dull speech summarizing everything he feels for a woman. And, therefore, there's a time in an average woman's life, in which he has to listen to such a drawl."

He could tell by her faint smile that she was enjoying this immensely.

"But, seeing as many would not categorize me as an average man, and you…" he smirked, looking her over with a gaze of admiration, "…are not an average woman, I think the drawl will not, to the best of my ability, come to be."

Her grin of appreciation willed him to go forward.

"Therefore, I have decided to put the following drawl into a form you and I would find more interesting."

Mustang paused to take the candles out of their holders. Holding one in each hand, he beamed at her confusion.

"There comes, I'm sure you know, a point at which every man finds himself at the mercy of a woman."

Her look couldn't have said anything plainer than '_And it helps to have a gun…_'.

"When," Roy indicated the candle in his right hand,"although it's shone brightly all its life, a flame has lost its brilliance without another." Here, he touched the two tapers together. The combined wicks produced a heightened blaze.

"And, at this point, without the light of the second to share its task, it will be snuffed out completely."

Adeptly, he blew at the wick of the right, watching its secondary flickering—and its momentary demise.

"But here you are, so I suppose I much remain."

He used the remaining fire to relight his own 'candle figure'.

"And the way I see it, That's how it should always be."

The tapers, having finished their demonstration, were placed back to their previous locations. A small, neatly signifigant box was produced from his pocket. Silver banded and sleek, branches arched up to the middle to form a blaze-like figure. Garnet and amber laden it, the colors entwining themselves around the ring in glorious brilliance.

"Riza? Will you--?"

But she didn't let him finish the sentence. She leaned forward slowly, closing the distance between them. Their lips touched chastely, and he had his answer. Roy pulled her closer into the kiss—just as the flames flickered…and died out.

* * *

"Edward…?"

"Yeah, Winry?"

He came out of the shower, clad in only a towel.

"I need to tell you something…"

"Yeah? What is it?"

She flushed, and continued on to explain that it would need discussion.

"Just get some clothes on and we'll talk about it."

"Sure." He stated with some slight annoyance.

Once in a black tank top and pants, he addressed her once more.

"So what is it you wanted to talk about?"

"Well…I didn't some tests…"

"On what?"

"Edward…It's just…I'm not sure how you'll react…"

"What? Did you fail a test or something?" The confusion was etched in his face. "Why would you think I'd react badly to you failing a test?"

"It's not that I failed, really. It's that I tested positive." She looked down at the floor, unsure of how to introduce the subject.

"Huh?"

"Edward… I'm pregnant."

She was responded with silence. Suddenly, she realized that Edward hadn't wanted a child. Would he leave? Ask her for abortion? Wincing, she let ger gaze shift upwards to face him. She didn't want to see the shock plastered onto his face.

But when she looked up, it was her turn to look shocked. There sat Edward, nonchalantly leaning against the wall; grinning.

"Is it a boy, or a girl?"

* * *

"I'd like to make a toast!" Al announced meekly. "I've known both of them for a great time, through temper, and through tears. And I can't think of a better match. So to the Mrriage!"

"_To the marriage_!" Redunciated a cacophany of guests. Some voices were slurred and tipsy, but it went unnoticed.

They'd forced him to speak…not that he didn't wish them a happy marriage…but he wasn't a public speaker usually.

Winry laughed alongside Edward, who looked a good deal happier than he had in months. He grinned openly, holding her hand throughout. She whispered something in his ear, and he blushed slightly. But, in retaliation, he murmured something within hers, and she turned a bright vermillion.

_This is it_, he kept telling himself joyously, _This is it_.

* * *

It had been months since he had passed away. But in those few months, they had stumbled upon the discovery; Serenium could be reset if a death occurred. If, for example, a sibling died, and the blood relation had been too close, a new taste of crimson would be detected; a fold in the rules.

Winry, however, was stightly worried by his lack of interest in such a possibility. She confronted him, incidentally, about it one afternoon.

"Do you think you're going to try to regain your flesh body again?"

He grinned.

"If it's all the same to you—" He swooped her into a passionate kiss, "—I think you can love me—" He scooped her up into his arms, "—Just the way I am." She smiled faintly into his lips.

* * *

_Bane; "Now! Wasn't that a fine piece of procrastination! But it's 5 pages long, so you shouldn't complain." –shakes finger-_

_A; "So it's pretty much finished?" –silent hurrah!-_

_Bane; "Except for the review resonses…yes. That's it."_

_A; "I think it was pretty good."_

_Bane; "Me too. But what do the reviewers think? Comeon! Make me write more reviewer responses! I want to know what you thought of it all; of the specific drabbles, of certain humorous lines! I love you guys; I want to know what you think!" –hugs awesome reviewers-_

_A; "Anyway, it's finally over. Be happy."_


End file.
